THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

MABEL  R.  QILLIS 


h 


f- 

ff-L. 


AT    THE    PARTY. 


EUNICE  AND  CRICKET 


BY 

ELIZABETH    WESTYN   TIMLOW 

AUTHOR  OF 

"  CRICKET  :   A  STORY  FOR  LITTLE  GIRLS," 
"CRICKET   AT   THE   SEASHORE" 


ElostrateU  bg 
HARRIET  R.   RICHARDS 


BOSTON 
ESTES   AND   LAURIAT 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  i8<fl 
BY  ESTES  &  LAURIAT 


Colonial 

Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  Slmonds  &  Co. 
Boston,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


fiZ-7 


TO 
ELMA    AND    SYLVIA 

AND 
THE    GOAT 


577497 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Two  AMATEUR  PHOTOGRAPHERS          .       11 

II.  A  DISCOVERY  IN  FILMS        ...      25 

III.  A  «  MUMPFUL  "  PARTY         ...       37 

IV.  IN  QUARANTINE 59 

V.  AN  UNEXPECTED  VISITOR                             G8 

VI.  A  PHILANTHROPIC  SCHEME  .        .        .8:? 

VII.  MOSINA 99 

VIII.  A  BEDFELLOW 110 

IX.  CHRISTMAS  HOLIDAYS  ....  120 

X.  THE  BOY 139 

XI.  A  VISIT  TO  MOSINA  ....  152 

XII.  KEEPING  HOUSE 165 

XIII.  THE  DIAMOND  RING     .        .        .        .187 

XIV.  SCHOOL  THEATRICALS  .         .        .        .211 
XV.  A  DAY  IN  THE  NURSERY     .        .        .234 

XVI.     A  GOAT  EPISODE 253 

XVII.     A  SCRAPE 268 

XVIII.     AN  EXPEDITION 279 

XIX.     THE  RESULT.       ' 292 

XX.  OLD  MR.  CHESTER        .        .        .        .299 

XXI.  BREAKING  UP                                          .     307 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

AT  THE  PARTY Frontispiece 

GETTING  READY  FOR  THE  PARTY      ...       49 

AN  UNEXPECTED  VISITOR 79 

THE  LOST  BABY.         .        .        .        .        .        .85 

KEEPING  HOUSE  .......     173 

THE  DIAMOND  RING 191 

IN  THE  NURSERY 239 

A  SUDDEN  DOWNFALL         .   -     .        .        .        .     259 


EUNICE  AND  CRICKET 


EUNICE  AND  CRICKET. 

CHAPTER  I. 

TWO   AMATEUR   PHOTOGRAPHERS. 

Two  eager  heads  bent  over  a  small,  square, 
black  object  that  stood  on  the  stone  post  at  the 
foot  of  the  doorsteps. 

" '  Hold  the  camera  steady  and  push  the 
lever,' "  read  the  brown-eyed  girl  with  the  long, 
dark  braid,  from  the  little  pamphlet  she  held  in 
her  hand.  "  Look  down  in  the  little  round 
hole,  Cricket ;  you  can  see  the  picture  perfectly. 
Isn't  it  the  cutest  thing  ?  " 

Cricket  squinted  down  critically. 

" It's  going  to  be  perfectly  jolly"  she  cried 
enthusiastically.  "  Now  stand  still  as  mice, 
children,  while  I  count  three." 

"  Stand  still  as  a  mice,  Helen,"  immediately 
admonished  the  small  girl  in  the  dark  red  coat, 
giving  a  great  pinch  to  the  little  golden-haired, 


12  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

brown-clad  lassie  who  stood  beside  her,  by  way 
of  emphasising  her  older  sister's  words.  "  Stand 
still  as  a  mice,  Johnnie-goat,"  giving  the  third 
member  of  the  group  a  tickle  on  the  back  that 
made  him  drop  his  curved  horns  for  more. 

"  Keep  still  <  as  a  mice,'  yourself,"  said  Cricket, 
tapping  Miss  Red-coat  briskly  on  the  head.  "All 
ready,  Eunice.  '  You  push  the  button,  and  we'll 
do  the  rest,'"  she  quoted,  clapping  her  hands 
in  her  favourite  fashion.  "  Hooray !  there  she 
goes !  Oh,  I  hope  it  will  be  good !  That's  all, 
Zaidie  and  Helen.  You  stood  beautifully.  Run 
along  now.  Can't  you  go  around  to  the  stable 
and  take  Johnnie-goat  back,  'Liza  ?  " 

Eunice  swept  the  trio  a  low  bow. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Johnnie-goat,  for  standing 
still  so  long,"  she  said,  addressing  the  horned 
member  of  the  party.  "I  hope  your  picture 
will  be  very  good,"  she  added,  picking  up  the 
camera  with  a  highly  professional  air. 

"  Take  me  again,"  demanded  Zaidie  instantly, 
when  Cricket  told  her  once  more  that  they  were 
through  with  this  wonderful  process,  and  that 
they  might  go.  "I  like  having  my  picture 
tooken.  Don't  you,  Helen  ?  Let's  sit  on  John- 
nie-goat, and  be  tooken  again,"  and  Zaidie  tried 


TWO    AMATEUR    PHOTOGRAPHERS.        13 

to  climb  upon  the  goat's  white  back.  This, 
however,  was  a  familiarity  which  Johnnie  could 
not  think  of  permitting,  even  from  his  best 
friends.  He  instantly  sidled  off,  not  wishing 
to  hurt  her  feelings  by  a  direct  butt.  Zaidie 
unexpectedly  sat  down  on  the  ground. 

"  No,  we  don't  want  any  more  pictures  of  you 
now,  thank  you,"  said  Eunice,  examining  her 
Kodak,  while  Zaidie  demanded  a  view  of  the  one 
already  taken. 

"  She  thinks  it's  like  putting  a  penny  in  the 
slot  and  a  picture  drops  out.  This  isn't  that 
kind,  my  dear.  There's  a  lot  of  hard,  hard 
work  before  you  see  that  picture,"  said  Cricket 
importantly. 

The  day  before  had  been  Eunice's  birthday, 
and  this  Kodak,  which  had  been  a  long-desired 
possession,  was  a  birthday  present.  As  it  was 
given  to  them  entirely  ready  for  use,  they  had 
literally  nothing  to  do  but  "  press  the  button." 

Papa  had  been  too  busy  that  morning  to  ex- 
plain the  mysterious  little  affair  very  particularly, 
but  he  told  the  children  to  study  the  pamphlet 
carefully,  and  follow  directions  closely.  Eunice 
and  Cricket  promptly  sat  down  and  read  the 
pamphlet  from  title-page  to  finis. 


14  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

Both  looked  a  little  blank  when  they  had 
finished.  Could  they  ever  remember  all  those 
instructions  ? 

"  It's  all  plain  enough,"  said  Eunice  medita- 
tively, "but  the  question  is,  how  are  we  going 
to  remember  it  all  at  important  times?  Now, 
for  instance,  about  the  stops.  Listen :  '  Snap- 
shots can  only  be  made  when  the  largest  stop  is 
in  the  lens.'  Will  you  remember  that,  Cricket  ?" 

"  We  might  just  sit  down  and  learn  the  whole 
thing  off  by  heart,"  suggested  Cricket,  wrinkling 
her  forehead  thoughtfully. 

"  Horrors,  no !  "  returned  Eunice.  "  Learn 
all  that  ?  Let's  just  carry  the  pamphlet  around 
with  us  all  the  time.  If  we  take  the  camera 
anywhere,  we  can  certainly  take  the  book,  too. 
Now  let's  go  and  take  a  picture." 

"  It's  easier  to  take  them  out  doors,  everybody 
says,"  answered  Cricket,  jumping  up.  "  There's 
'Liza  starting  out  to  walk  with  the  twins.  Let's 
go  and  take  them  sitting  on  the  front  door- 
steps." 

The  twins,  of  course,  were  perfectly  delighted 
at  the  idea  of  having  their  pictures  taken. 
Zaidie  straightway  sat  herself  down  on  the  low- 
est step,  with  her  hands  firmly  folded  in  her 


TWO   AMATEUR    PHOTOGRAPHERS.        15 

lap,  and  her  feet  out  straight  before  her,  trying 
vainly  to  keep  the  smile  out  of  her  dimpled 
face. 

"I  don't  want  you  that  way,"  said  Eunice, 
laughing,  as  she  turned  around.  "  You  must 
get  in  some  romantic  attitude.  No,  I  don't 
mean  romantic,  but  picturesque." 

"  Couldn't  I  be  sliding  down  the  railing  ? " 
suggested  Zaidie  eagerly,  thinking  she  saw  a 
chance  to  indulge  in  her  favourite  amusement. 
"  Wouldn't  that  be  pick-chesk  ? " 

"  You  can't  slide  down  no  railings,  pick-chesk 
or  no  pick-chesk,"  put  in  Eliza,  promptly. 

"You  couldn't,  anyway,"  said  Cricket,  "be- 
cause you  have  to  sit  still,  Zaidie.  You  can't 
hop  around  when  you  have  your  picture  taken. 
Don't  you  remember  ?  " 

"Zaidie,  you  stand  up  by  the  post,"  began 
Eunice,  when  Cricket  interrupted  her. 

"  Look  !  There's  Johnnie-goat  trotting  up  the 
street.  Do  let's  have  him  in.  He  would  be 
picturesque." 

"  S'pose  he'd  stand  still  ? "  asked  Eunice 
doubtfully.  "  I  don't  want  to  spoil  my  picture." 

Johnnie-goat  was  a  very  celebrated  character 
in  the  neighbourhood.  He  belonged  to  a  livery- 


16  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

stable  that  was  on  the  square  back  of  the  Wards. 
He  was  famous  for  eating  off  his  rope  and  run- 
ning away.  He  was  a  big  white  goat,  with 
unusually  long  horns,  and  a  very  inquiring  dis' 
position.  He  was  such  a  ridiculous  fellow,  too, 
sometimes  munching  sedately  at  a  stray  banana- 
skin  or  orange-peel,  then  kicking  up  his  heels 
as  if  an  invisible  imp  had  tickled  him,  and 
walking  off  on  his  forefeet.  He  was  a  very 
discerning  goat,  also,  and  knew  perfectly  well 
his  friends  from  his  enemies.  He  had  good- 
will for  the  one,  and  butts  for  the  other.  One 
way  that  he  knew  his  friends  was  that  they 
always  wore  dresses,  while  his  enemies  were 
clad  in  trousers.  That  was  one  invariable  mark. 
Then,  his  friends  gave  him  apples  to  eat,  and 
scratched  the  sensitive  place  between  his  horns 
that  he  couldn't  possibly  reach  himself,  and 
which,  therefore,  was  seldom  properly  scratched. 
His  enemies  usually  saluted  him  with  stones, 
and  offered  him  tin  cans  to  eat.  Now  Johnnie- 
goat  was  perfectly  willing  to  acknowledge  that 
he  could  eat  tin  cans  on  occasions,  but  they 
were  not  his  favourite  diet,  and  he  didn't  care 
much  for  them.  He  regarded  it  as  something 
of  an  insult  to  be  constantly  offered  them.  It 


TWO    AMATEUR    PHOTOGRAPHERS.         17 

was  one  thing,  if  he  chose  occasionally  to  pick 
one  up  himself  and  see  if  he  liked  the  brand, 
but  he  decidedly  objected  to  having  them  so 
often  forced  on  his  attention. 

The  result  of  all  this  was,  that  Johnnie-goat's 
disposition  was  somewhat  mixed.  Like  some 
people  whom  we  have  known,  when  he  was  good 
he  was  very  good  indeed,  but  when  he  was  bad 
he  was  simply  terrific.  He  seemed  to  know  no 
middle  course. 

I  do  not  know  why  he  was  not  called  Billy, 
in  accordance  with  all  traditions.  His  full  title 
was  John  O'Raft'erty,  Esq.,  and  on  many  occa- 
sions he  got  the  whole  benefit  of  it. 

He  was  great  friends  with  all  the  Ward  chil- 
dren, who,  from  having  so  many  pets  of  their 
own  at  Kayuna,  had  a  special  predilection  for 
any  stray  animal.  Johnnie-goat  perfectly  under- 
stood this  fact  —  for  any  one  who  thinks  that  a 
goat  is  not  a  highly  discriminating  creature,  is 
not  acquainted  with  his  peculiarities. 

On  this  particular  morning,  Johnnie-goat  was 
quite  willing  to  be  treated  to  some  banana-skins, 
which  the  cook  brought  out  to  tempt  him  with. 
He  fully  realised  that  it  was  a  very  solemn 
occasion,  for  he  stood  like  a  sentinel,  and  only 
blinked  once. 


18  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"We  must  take  all  sorts  of  things,  Cricket," 
said  Eunice,  when  the  children  had  trooped 
away  down  the  street,  with  Johnnie-goat  march- 
ing sedately  behind  them,  with  now  and  then  a 
sudden  frisk  of  his  hind  legs  in  the  air,  and  then 
such  an  instant  return  of  his  composure,  that 
you  doubted  the  evidence  of  your  eyes. 

"  There  are  only  a  dozen  pictures  on  one  roll, 
you  know,  and  we  want  a  good  variety.  Aren't 
you  just  wild  to  develop  -them  ?  I  am.  It 
sounds  so  grown-up  to  talk  of  the  chemicals  and 
the  '  hypo.' " 

"  What  is  the  *  hypo? ' "  asked  Cricket,  as  they 
went  down  the  street  in  search  of  a  good  subject. 

"  Why,  just  hypo,  I  suppose.  I  don't  believe 
it's  anything  in  particular,"  said  Eunice  vaguely. 

"Donald  said  Marjorie  had  the  hypo  yester- 
day," said  Cricket  thoughtfully,  "  when  she  was 
sort  of  dumpy  all  day.  But  I  suppose  it  isn't 
the  same  kind." 

"  No,  of  course  not,  goosie.  The  hypo  is  that 
white  powder  that  comes  with  all  the  things. 
Didn't  you  notice  it  ?  Perhaps  Donald  meant 
that  Marjorie  had  been  taking  some.  Oh,  look  ! 
wouldn't  that  corner  of  the  little  park  make 
the  sweetest  picture  ?  Let's  take  it ! " 


TWO    AMATEUR    PHOTOGRAPHERS.         19 

"  Yes,  let's !  and  that's  two,"  added  Cricket, 
when  the  picture  was  secured.  "_/««'£  this  excit- 
ing ?  Can't  I  take  the  next  one,  Eunice  ?  Just 
let  me  look  at  the  pamphlet  a  moment  to  see 
something." 

Cricket  buried  herself  in  the  book  of  instruc- 
tions for  a  moment,  then  darted  tragically  at 
the  camera. 

"Oh,  Eunice!  See!  the  pamphlet  says  that 
after  you  take  a  picture,  you  must  turn  the  key 
around  three  or  four  times,  till  the  next  number 
appears  before  the  little  window,  and  that  will 
put  a  new  film  ready ;  and  we  never  did  it ! 
What  do  you  s'pose  it  will  be  ?  " 

The  two  girls  stared  at  each  other  in  dismay. 

"  Oh,  dear !  dear !  "  exclaimed  Eunice.  "  Then 
we've  taken  another  picture  right  on  top  of 
Johnnie-goat  and  the  twins,  and  they  were  so 
cunning ! " 

"  There  isn't  any  way  to  wwtake  it,  is  there  ? " 
asked  Cricket,  in  real  Mrs.  Peterkin  fashion. 

"  I'm  afraid  not.  I  wonder  what  it  will  look 
like !  It  will  be  a  composite  photograph,  I 
suppose,  like  Marjorie's  class  picture." 

"  Perhaps  it  won't  be  bad,"  said  Cricket,  the 
hopeful.  "  You  see,  this  last  picture  is  trees  and 


20  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

shrubbery,  and  there  may  be  a  glimpse  of  John- 
nie-goat and  the  twins  behind  them.  It  may 
look  as  if  we  did  it  on  purpose.  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  it  would  be  lovely.  Perhaps  we'll 
want  to  take  more  that  way." 

"  Perhaps,"  assented  Eunice,  doubtfully.  "  It 
makes  me  think  of  Kenneth  this  morning.  I 
was  in  mamma's  room  while  you  were  practis- 
ing, and  Kenneth  was  there  too.  He  brought  a 
piece  of  paper  to  mamma  and  asked  her  to  draw 
a  man,  and  she  drew  the  side  face  of  one  —  and 
Kenneth  asked  her  where  the  other  side  of  his 
face  was,  and  if  it  was  on  the  other  side  of 
the  paper.  Mamma  told  him  the  other  side 
of  the  face  was  there,  but  he  couldn't  see  it ;  and 
then  she  turned  him  her  side  face  to  show  him. 
Well,  Kenneth  took  the  paper  and  ran  off,  but 
came  back  in  a  moment  with  some  straight  lines 
across  it,  and  told  mamma  that  that  was  a  kitty 
and  a  fence,  and  mamma  said  she  saw  the  fence, 
but  where  was  the  kitten  ?  And  what  do  you 
think  the  baby  said  ?  —  that  the  kitten  was  be- 
hind the  fence !  That  it  was  really  there,  only 
she  couldn't  see  it.  Wasn't  that  cute  ?  " 

"He's   just  the  dearest,  smartest  baby  that 


TWO    AMATEUR    PHOTOGRAPHERS.        21 

over  her  beloved  small  brother.  "We'll  just 
tell  people,  then,  that  the  children  are  behind 
the  trees,  even  if  they  can't  see  them.  There, 
now,  I've  turned  the  film  ready,  this  time.  See ! 
there's  the  figure  2  in  the  little  window  at  the 
back.  Now,  we  are  all  ready.  What  shall  we 
take?" 

"  Let's  take  each  other,"  suggested  Eunice. 
"  I'll  stand  here  by  the  park  fence.  Am  I  all 
right?" 

The  picture-taking  went  on  merrily  after 
that.  They  got  a  fine  snap  at  papa  just  get- 
ting out  of  his  buggy,  and  one  of  mamma,  as  she 
came  home  from  market.  They  got  another 
dear  little  picture  of  the  twins  as  they  came 
down  the  street  hand  in  hand.  It  did  not  take 
long  to  use  up  all  the  films  at  this  rate,  and  at 
luncheon  they  were  able  to  announce,  trium- 
phantly, that  they  were  ready  to  develop  their 
pictures  that  afternoon. 

"  But  you  don't  know  how,"  objected  papa ; 
"  and  I  have  to  be  out  all  the  afternoon  and  can't 
help  you." 

"Please  let  us  try  it  by  ourselves,"  pleaded 
Eunice.  "We  can  read  the  directions,  and 
they're  terribly  plain.  A  cat  could  use  them. 
Do  let  us !  " 


22  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  Better  not  do  it  alone,  youngsters,"  advised 
Donald.  "  I'd  show  you,  myself,  if  I  were  going 
to  be  home,  but  I  can't  wait." 

Donald  was  in  college  this  year,  but,  being  so 
near,  he  often  came  home  to  lunch  on  Satur- 
day, and  sometimes  spent  Sunday  there  also. 

"  Of  course  we  can  do  it,"  returned  Cricket, 
confidently.  "  We've  read  the  directions  a  mil- 
lion times  already,  and  I  pretty  nearly  know  them 
by  heart.  Listen :  « Open  one  of  the  developer 
powders,  then  put  the  contents  (two  chemicals) 
into  the  beaker  and  fill  it  up  to  the  brim  with 
water.  Stir,  till  dissolved,  with  wooden  stirring 
spoon.  Next  take  — 

"  Spare  us,"  begged  Marjorie.  "  We're  will- 
ing to  take  your  knowledge  for  granted." 

"We  can  use  the  linen  closet  for  a  dark 
room,"  said  Eunice. 

"  By  no  manner  of  means,"  put  in  mamma, 
promptly.  "I  don't  fancy  having  every  sheet 
and  pillow-case  I  own  deluged  with  chemicals. 
You  can  have  the  bathroom  closet,  though,  if 
you'll  promise  to  put  everything  you  take  out  of 
it  back  very  carefully.  But  children,  I  de- 
cidedly think  you  should  wait  for  papa  or  Don 
to  show  you  how." 


TWO    AMATEUR    I'HOTOUUA  I'HKRS.         23 

"Do  let  them,  mamma,"  advised  Marjorie. 
"  Of  course  they  will  make  a  frightful  mess, 
and  ruin  the  whole  roll,  but  they  will  have  the 
experience." 

"  The  idea ! "  cried  Eunice,  much  injured. 
"  We've  done  everything  right  thus  far  —  or 
almost  right,"  with  a  sudden,  guilty  recollection 
of  the  double  exposure  of  the  first  film. 

"Almost  everything !  "  laughed  Donald.  "  Con- 
sidering you  only  have  to  aim  the  thing  and 
press  the  button,  it  would  be  strange  if  you 
hadn't.  Did  you  aim  the  wrong  end  of  it  and 
try  to  take  something  out  of  the  little  back 
window?" 

"  Of  course  we  didn't,"  said  Eunice  and 
Cricket,  in  an  indignant  breath.  Then  they 
exchanged  guilty,  conscious  glances. 

"  We'll  promise  about  the  closet,"  said  Eunice 
hastily,  to  prevent  further  inconvenient  ques- 
tions. "  We'll  take  the  things  out  carefully ; 
and  may  we  take  the  little  nursery  table  to  lay 
our  trays  on  ?  It's  just  large  enough  to  fit." 

.These  matters  being  settled,  the  two  girls,  as 
soon  as  luncheon  was  over,  eagerly  began  their 
preparations.  They  had  a  free  field,  for  mam- 
ma and  Marjorie  had  gone  to  a  matinee,  and 


24  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

Eliza  had  taken  the  children  to  the  park  for  the 
afternoon.  The  housemaid's  closet  in  the  bath- 
room was  soon  cleared  of  its  brooms  and  dust- 
pans, and  the  small,  low  table  from  the  nursery 
was  brought  in.  The  little  trays  that  came  with 
the  outfit,  the  bottles  of  chemicals  and  "hypo" 
were  duly  arranged  on  it. 

"There!"  said  Eunice,  surveying  the  prep- 
arations with  a  professional  eye.  "  Everything 
is  ready,  I  think.  Let  me  see,"  consulting  the 
pamphlet.  "  *  Also  provide  a  pair  of  shears,  a 
pitcher  of  cold  water,  and  a  dark  room  having  a 
shelf  or  table'  —  yes,  all  here.  Trays,  stirring 
rod,  chemicals,  and  when  we  shut  the  door  we 
have  our  dark  room  —  why,  Cricket!"  with  a 
sudden  exclamation  of  dismay. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A   DISCOVERY    VH    FILMS. 

EUNICE'S  exclamation  was  caused  by  the  fact 
that  when  she  suited  the  action  to  the  word,  and 
shut  the  door,  they  were,  of  course,  in  total 
darkness. 

"  I  should  say  so,"  returned  Cricket,  blankly. 
"  Not  being  cats,  we  can't  see  in  'Gyptian  dark- 
ness. Do  open  the  door.  We'll  have  to  get  a 
lamp." 

"  No,  we  mustn't,"  answered  Eunice,  opening 
the  door,  and  consulting  the  pamphlet.  "  It 
says, '  neither  daylight  nor  lamplight.'  It  ought 
to  be  a  red  light,  like  this  one  in  the  picture." 

Although  the  children  did  not  know  it,  such 
a  lamp  had  come  with  the  outfit,  but  when  Don- 
ald unpacked  the  things  he  had  left  it  in  his  own 
room. 

"  We  might  get  a  lantern  from  the  kitchen," 
went  on  Eunice,  "  and  wrap  it  with  a  red  cloth. 


26  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

That  will  do.  Will  you  go  for  the  lantern  while 
I  get  the  red  cloth  ? " 

Cricket  flew  off,  and  returned  in  two  minutes 
with  the  lantern. 

"  Cook  says,"  she  announced,  breathlessly, 
"  that  if  we  put  anything  over  it,  we  must  be 
careful  not  to  cover  up  the  breathing-holes  at 
the  top." 

"  Isn't  this  fine  for  the  cover ! "  said  Eunice, 
displaying  a  small  turkey-red  laundry-bag.  It's 
contents  lay  on  the  floor  under  the  table. 

"Now,  we're  all  ready,"  announced  Eunice 
once  more,  with  much  satisfaction.  "What  do 
we  do  first  ?  —  where's  the  book  ?  "  when  the 
lantern  was  carefully  covered,  with  a  due  regard 
for  the  breathing-holes. 

"  The  book  ?  why  it's  —  I  do  believe  we  left 
it  in  mamma's  room.  No,  here  it  is.  And  — 
goodness  gracious !  Cricket,  we've  forgotten  to 
take  the  roll  of  pictures  out  of  the  camera ! " 

"  Aren't  we  lunatics?  "  exclaimed  Cricket,  with 
her  bubbling  laugh,  as  she  threw  open  the 
door.  "  How  do  we  get  the  things  out,  anyway  V 
Everything  is  so  tight"  she  added,  turning  it 
upside  down.  "I  can't  see  where  anything 
comes  out.  Where  does  it  come  to  pieces  ? " 


A    DISCOVERY    IX    FILMS.  27 

"  I'll  read  the  directions.  '  Xo  dark  room  is 
required  to  take  out  the  spool  of  films,  but  you 
must  take  your  position  as  far  from  the  window 
as  possible.'  So  glad  we  needn't  stay  in  this 
dark  closet  to  do  it!  Read  the  directions  very 
slowly,  Cricket,  and  I'll  do  the  things." 

"  All  ready,"  said  Cricket.  " '  Unclose  the 
catch  at  the  bottom,  holding  the  camera  taut' 
What  in  the  world  is  taut?" 

Eunice  knit  her  brows. 

"  Can't  imagine,  unless  it  means  carefully," 
she  said,  thoughtfully. 

"  Shan't  run  any  risks,"  cried  Cricket,  jump- 
ing up  and  flying  away.  "  I'll  look  it  up  in  the 
dictionary." 

She  came  back  in  a  moment,  looking  rather 
disgusted. 

"It  only  means  'tight,'  'firmly.'  Why  in 
creation  didn't  they  say  so  ? " 

Fortunately,  the  remaining  directions  were 
sufficiently  simple,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
roll  of  exposures  was  in  Eunice's  hand.  The 
children  went  back  into  the  closet,  to  make  ready 
the  chemicals. 

The  careful  measuring  and  mixing  of  the  pow- 
der with  the  required  amount  of  water  went  on. 


28  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

The  trays  were  arranged  in  due  order,  and  Eunice 
announced,  for  the  third  time : 

"  Everything  is  positively  ready  now,  so  we 
can  begin  to  cut  apart  the  pictures,"  taking  up 
the  roll  of  thick,  black  paper.  "How  can  we 
tell  where  to  cut  them  ?  Oh,  here  are  little 
white  lines  on  the  back.  Can  you  see  to  cut, 
Cricket?" 

"Yes.  What's  all  this  white  stuff  between 
for  ?  It  looks  like  paraffin  paper  something, 
only  it  smells  like  fury." 

"  It's  just  to  keep  the  other  paper  from  rub- 
bing when  it's  rolled  over  the  spool,"  said 
Eunice,  sniffling  at  the  paper,  which,  you  all 
know,  was  really  the  film,  on  which  the  picture 
had  been  taken.  "  I  should  say  it  does  smell. 
Throw  it  on  the  floor  after  you  have  cut  off  the 
black  pieces." 

"Here's  one,"  said  Cricket.  "Oh,  I'm  so 
excited,  Eunice.  Listen:  'Put  it  in  the  water, 
edge  down,  to  prevent  air  bubbles.'  " 

"  Done,"  said  Eunice.    "  Next." 

Cricket  read  on  under  the  dim  red  light,  till 
she  came  to  "  In  about  one  minute  the  film 
will  begin  to  darken  in  spots." 

"  There,  we  have  not  any  watch,"  interrupted 


A   DISCOVERY    IN   FILMS.  29 

Eunice.  "  Cut  out  and  get  the  nursery  clock, 
Cricket.  Cover  the  roll  all  up,  because  you 
know  the  leastest  bit  of  light  will  spoil  it." 

Cricket  obediently  "  cut  out,"  and  then  re- 
sumed her  reading. 

" '  The  films  will  begin  to  darken  in  spots, 
representing  the  lights.'  Isn't  that  the  funni- 
est! how  can  black  paper  darken  in  spots,  I'd 
like  to  know?" 

"  Can't  imagine ;  but  I  know  that  chemicals 
make  things  do  all  sorts  of  queer  things," 
answered  Eunice,  lucidly.  "  Cut  some  more  to 
be  soaking  while  these  go  into  the  developer." 

"  That  first  one's  been  in  more  than  a  minute. 
Hold  it  up,  Eunice,  and  let's  see  it  darken  in 
spots.  It  hasn't  changed  a  bit,  yet,"  she  added, 
disgustedly,  after  a  moment.  "  Isn't  this  wait- 
ing going  to  be  slow  work  ?  " 

The  waiting  did  prove  tiresome.  Again  and 
again  the  children  took  the  thick,  black  squares 
of  carbon  paper  from  their  bath  in  the  developer, 
eagerly  scanning  the  opaque  substance,  which 
naturally  showed  no  trace  of  change. 

Five  —  ten — fifteen  minutes  ticked  slowly 
away. 

"  Goodness  gracious  me  ! "  groaned  Eunice  at 


30  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

last.  "  I  should  think  we  had  been  here  for 
five  hours.  Isn't  this  poky  ?  " 

"  This  black  paper  can  never  darken,"  cried 
Cricket,  despairingly.  "  There's  some  mistake. 
If  it  was  that  white  lining  paper  there  would  be 
some  sense." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  then  both 
girls  exclaimed,  in  a  breath : 

"  Eunice ! " 

"  Cricket ! " 

"  We've  gone  and  — 

"  Soaked  the  wrong  thing  !  " 

"  We've  soaked  the  carbon  paper  —  " 

"  And  thrown  away  the  film  !  " 

"Of  course  that  white  paraffiny-looking  paper 
was  the  film  ! " 

"  Of  course  this  thick  stuff  is  the  carbon 
paper  to  wrap  around  the  other  and  keep  out 
the  light." 

"  Aren't  we  geeses  ?  " 

"  We  just  are  !  Don't  let's  ever  tell.  Now, 
where  are  the  films  ?  " 

"  Just  dropped  around  anywhere,"  said 
Cricket,  dolefully. 

"  Scrabble  around  carefully,  and  we'll  find 
them.  Oh!  aren't  we  the  idioticest  girls?" 


A   DISCOVERY    IN    FILMS.  31 

"  We'll  have  to  mix  some  more  developer, 
and  change  the  water  in  the  first  tray,  too.  It's 
all  black,  for  the  colour  in  that  old  carbon  paper 
leaked  out.  Have  you  found  all  the  films  ?  " 

"  I  had  only  cut  six,  and  here  they  are.  I'll 
cover  them  up  while  you  open  the  door  and  fix 
some  more  developer." 

At  last,  everything  was  under  way  again. 

"  Four  o'clock,"  said  Eunice,  soberly,  "  and  to 
think  that  we  haven't  developed  a  single  one 
yet!" 

"  But,  oh,  see !  "  cried  Cricket,  joyfully,  hold- 
ing up  the  film,  after  a  moment.  "It  really  is 
beginning  to  darken  in  spots.  Hooray  !  See, 
Eunice,  that  actually  looks  like  an  arm  sticking 
out  there  !  What  is  it,  do  you  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Looks  like  a  ghost's  arm, 
doesn't  it  ?  Put  it  to  soak  again.  Let's  look 
at  this  one." 

"  Nothing  here.  Eunice,  what  makes  all 
these  scratches  across  it?" 

"Probably  we  stepped  on  them.  You  know 
you  threw  them  down  any  way.  Probably  the 
scratches  won't  show  through.  Oh,  I  do  believe 
this  is  mamma !  Isn't  that  her  bonnet  that 
begins  to  show?" 


32  EUNICE    AND    CKICKET. 

"  Yes  —  no  —  I  think  it's  the  one  where  we 
tried  to  take  that  runaway  horse.  Seems  to  me 
that  looks  like  a  leg  down  there." 

It  was  a  curious  effect  to  watch  the  films  as 
they  eagerly  held  one  after  another  up,  for  the 
different  parts  came  out  in  a  ghostly,  unattached 
way.  Here  one  lonely-looking  leg  was  plainly 
to  be  seen.  Then  a  head,  and  again  a  branch  of 
a  tree  or  an  arm. 

"  But  look  at  this  one,"  cried  Cricket,  survey- 
ing one  in  deep  disgust.  "  Isn't  this  the  small- 
poxiest-looking  thing?" 

It  was  pretty  liberally  sprinkled  with  dark 
spots,  but  one  of  them  was  unmistakably  John- 
nie-goat's head  and  horns. 

"This  must  be  the  one  we  took  on  top  of 
Johnnie-goat  and  the  twins,  shouldn't  you 
think  ?  I  do  believe  it  is  them  —  it  is  they  — 
which  is  right  ?  " 

"  I  do  believe  it  is,"  answered  Eunice,  ig- 
noring the  grammatical  appeal.  "It's  spotty 
enough  to  be  anything.  It's  certainly  like 
Kenneth  and  his  cat,  for  I  can  see  Johnnie- 
goat  behind  the  trees." 

"  So  we  can.  Look  at  this  one,  Cricket. 
What  we  thought  was  mamma's  bonnet  or  a 


A    DISCOVERY    IN   FILMS.  33 

runaway  horse  isn't  either.  You  held  it  upside 
down.  See !  it's  this  one  where  papa  was 
getting  out  of  his  buggy.  What  we  thought 
was  mamma's  bonnet  is  papa's  foot.  I  guess 
they  are  ready  for  the  last  tray  now.  Go  on 
with  the  directions." 

Long  after  five  o'clock,  two  very  sober  and 
tired-looking  children  emerged  from  the  bath- 
room closet,  and  proceeded  to  set  things  to 
rights. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Eunice,  breaking  a  long 
silence  as  they  cleared  trays  and  wiped  off  the 
table,  "the  book  says  it  only  costs  five  cents 
apiece  to  get  the  things  developed  at  a  photog- 
rapher's. Don't  you  really  think  it  would  be 
worth  while  to  save  up  our  money  for  a  time 
and  have  some  done  ?  Of  course  we  could  learn 
to  do  it  all  right  after  a  time,  but  — 

"  Yes,"  broke  in  Cricket  emphatically,  "  I  do. 
I  don't  vote  to  stay  in  every  Saturday  afternoon 
and  develop  smallpoxy  pictures,  with  smelly  old 
chemicals  and  nasty,  sticky  films,  and  put  my 
eyes  out  with  red  calico  lamps.  This  picture  of 
papa  is  the  only  single  one  that  is  going  to  be 
half-way  decent ;  and  the  horse  looks  more  like 
the  ghost  of  a  rhinoceros  than  anything  else. 


34  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

That  post  sticks  up  by  his  nose  just  like  a 
horn." 

"  Cricket,  don't  let's  ever  tell  that  we  soaked 
the  carbon  paper  and  thought  it  was  the  film 
that  the  pictures  were  taken  on,"  said  Eunice, 
scrubbing  with  much  soap  and  energy  at  the 
dull  yellow  stains  on  her  hands  that  stubbornly 
grew  brighter,  instead  of  fading.  "  We'd  never 
hear  the  last  of  it;  and  we  were  geeses,"  she 
added  thoughtfully. 

"Indeed,  I'll  never  tell,"  returned  Cricket 
with  emphasis.  "  Papa  and  Donald  would  tease 
us  out  of  our  boots." 

But  at  dinner-time  there  were  many  inquiries 
concerning  the  success  of  the  amateur  photog- 
raphy. 

"  It  was  a  little  tiresome,"  confessed  Eunice. 
"  Marjorie,  was  the  matine'e  good  ?  " 

"  Yes,  very.  How  many  pictures  did  you 
develop  ?  " 

"  Only  one  really  good  one.  Papa,  don't  you 
think  you  could  drive  us  out  to  Kayuna  next 
Saturday  ?  " 

"Yes,  if  it's  pleasant.  So  only  one  picture 
developed  ? " 

"  Oh,   they    all    developed"    put    in    Cricket, 


A    DISCOVERY    IN    FILMS.  35 

"  only  we  couldn't  always  tell  exactly  what  they 
were  meant  for.  Marjorie,  wasn't  May  Chester 
at  the  matinee  ?  1  thought  I  saw  her  going." 

' tk  But  we  want  to  know  about  the  pictures," 
persisted  papa,  much  amused  at  the  children's 
fencing.  "  When  wrill  the  gallery  be  opened  ? 
The  twins  said  you  took  them  with  Johnnie- 
goat." 

"  Yes,  we  did,  and  it  would  have  been  fine, 
only  we  took  another  picture  on  top  of  it,"  said 
Cricket,  regretfully.  "  We  should  have  turned 
the  little  key  around  every  time  we  took  a  new 
picture,  but  we  didn't,  and  they  got  a  little 
mixed  up." 

"  We  took  some  trees  on  top  of  Johnnie-goat," 
broke  in  Eunice,  "  and  we  hoped  that  it  would 
look  as  if  he  and  the  children  were  behind  them. 
Really,  I  think  that  would  be  a  pretty  good  plan, 
any  way,  if  they  would  only  develop  right." 

"  So  they  didn't,  eh  ? " 

"  Papa,  you  needn't  tease  us.  Developing 
pictures  isn't  a  bit  of  fun,  and  I'm  not  going  to 
do  it  any  more,"  burst  out  Cricket  desperately. 
"  It  isn't  right  to  take  money  from  the  photog- 
raphers anyway,  for  it's  their  business,  and  they 
lose  so  much  if  we  do  it  ourselves." 


36  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"I  think  so,  too,"  chimed  in  Eunice.  "We 
staid  in  all  this  lovely  Saturday,  shut  up  in  a 
hot,  smelly  closet,  and  wasted  a  lot  of  stuff,  and 
got  our  hands  all  stained,  and  spoiled  a  whole 
lot  of  films." 

"But  had  your  experience,"  put  in  papa. 
"  Experience  is  a  hard  school,  but  wise  men 
learn  in  no  other  way.  How's  that,  my  Lady 
Jane  ?  And  now  about  Kayuna  on  Saturday,"  he 
went  on,  kindly  changing  the  subject. 

"Cricket,  don't  ever  tell  about  the  film," 
whispered  Eunice  as  they  left  the  table.  "  Don't 
ever  tell  any  one." 

And  they  never  have  told  but  one  person,  and 
she  has  never  told  till  just  now.  Don't  you  tell, 
will  you  ? 


CHAPTER  III. 

i 

A  "MUMPFUL"  PARTY. 

CERTAIN  dainty  blue  billets  were  causing  a 
wild  flutter  of  excitement  among  the  ranks  of 
Miss  Lyon's  school,  for  every  girl  in  "  our  set " 
received  one  of  the  fascinating  things. 

"  Miss  Emily  Dray  ton  requests  the  pleasure 
of—  How  deliciously  grown  up!  Emily's 
parties  were  always  simply  perfect.  Emily  did 
not  go  to  school  with  the  others,  for  she  was  a 
delicate  little  girl,  and  had  her  lessons  with  a 
governess  at  home.  Her  friends  rather  envied 
her  at  times,  since  she  had  short  hours  and  not 
half  the  Latin  and  arithmetic  to  do  that  they 
did,  and  an  entire  holiday  whenever  she  did  not 
feel  quite  well;  but,  in  her  turn,  Emily  often 
looked  wistfully  at  the  others,  and  longed  with 
all  her  heart  for  the  dear  delights  of  school  life. 
She  always  felt  "  out  of  it "  when  her  little 
friends  laughed  and  chattered  and  compared 
notes  over  school  doings  that  she  knew  nothing 


38  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

of.  They  would  kindly  explain  the  jokes  and 
references,  but  when  she  did  not  know  dear 
Miss  Bates  and  cross  Miss  Raymond  and  slipshod 
Susie  Dane  and  stupid  Jessie  Moore,  the  things 
that  the  girls  laughed  over  till  their  sides  ached 
did  not  seem  very  funny  to  her.  It  made  her 
rather  a  lonely  little  girl,  and,  for  this  reason, 
her  mother  was  always  getting  up  some  simple 
little  party  or  company  for  her,  and  having 
Emily's  friends  to  luncheon. 

But  this  special  party  was  to  be  a  particularly 
fine  affair,  for  it  was  not  only  Emily's  birthday, 
but  Hallowe'en  as  well,  which  double  event  Mrs. 
Drayton  always  celebrated  more  elaborately  than 
any  other. 

Such  an  excitement  among  the  children,  then, 
when  the  blue  notes  began  to  circulate  !  Such 
jabbering  at  recess,  such  comparing  of  notes, 
such  arrangements  for  going,  such  questions 
about  each  other's  dress !  Alas  !  the  party  was 
a  whole  week  off.  Could  breakfast,  and  luncheon, 
and  dinner,  and  going  to  bed  and  getting  up,  and 
school  and  lessons,  ever  fill  up  this  long  stretch 
between  ? 

"  I  suppose  there  are  new  gowns  for  this  im- 
portant occasion,"  said  Donald,  who  had  strolled 


A    "  MUMPFUL  "    PARTY.  39 

in  to  dinner,  one  night.  The  family  were  all  in 
the  back  parlour. 

"No,"  said  mamma.  "Their  organdies  are 
fresh  and  nice,  fortunately,  and  new  sashes  are 
all  they  need." 

"  Fortunately  !  C/wfortunately,  I  say,"  said 
Donald,  teasingly.  "  I  was  going  to-  bring 
Cricket  a  dress  of  porcelain,"  referring  to  a  joke 
of  last  summer,  when  Cricket  had  arrayed  a 
heroine  in  flowing  robes  of  white  porcelain. 

Cricket  coloured,  but  answered  serenely,  as 
usual  : 

"  If  I  was  a  great  big  boy,  eighteen  years  old, 
and  a  Freshman,  too,  I'd  be  ashamed  of  an  old 
chestnut  joke  like  that.  I  described  to  auntie 
what  I  meant,  and  she  said  I  meant  chiffon  — 
that  gauzy,  filmy  stuff,  you  know." 

"  Filmy  stuff  would  be  appropriate,"  mur- 
mured Marjorie.  "  With  a  sash  of  black  carbon 
ribbon  you  would  be  very  swell." 

"  This  family  is  absolutely  disgusting,"  said 
Eunice,  looking  aggrieved.  "  Mamma,  I  should 
think  you  would  be  ashamed  of  such  perfectly 
impolite,  teasy  children  as  Donald  and  Mar- 
jorie." 

"  I  'xpect  God  picked  out  the  bestest  children 


40  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

he  had  around  then,"  piped  up  Zaidie,  who 
always  put  her  oar  in. 

"  Indeed,  he  didn't,"  said  Cricket  emphati- 
cally. "The  good  ones  were  all  gone,  and 
mamma  was  in  a  hurry,  and  He  just  sent  any 
He  had  on  hand." 

"  Good  for  you,  Cricket ! "  cried  Eunice  ap- 
provingly, thumping  her  sister  on  the  back. 
"  Now,  Mr.  Donald,  who  has  come  out  the  little 
end  of  the  horn?" 

"  Eunice,  your  slang  is  simply  disgusting.  Of 
course,  we  men  talk  it,  but  girls  should  never 
think  of  it." 

"  Hark,  oh,  hark,  to  the  lordly  Freshman ! " 
chanted  Eunice,  clasping  her  hands  and  rolling 
up  her  eyes. 

"  Notice  everything  he  says,  Eunice,  so  we'll 
know  how  to  behave  when  we  go  to  college,  and 
are  dear,  cunning  little  Freshmen,"  chimed  in 
Cricket. 

"  No  more  words  of  wisdom  to-night,"  an- 
nounced Donald,  getting  up.  "  I'm  off." 

"  The  supply  exhausted  so  soon  ?  "  murmured 
Marjorie,  beginning  a  new  corner  in  her  em- 
broidery. 

Donald  kissed  his  mother,  ignoring  Marjorie. 


A  "MUMPFUL"  PARTY.  41 

"  I'll  order  you  a  Dresden  China  gown,  my 
Lady  Jane,"  he  said,  twisting  Cricket's  brown 
curls  as  he  passed  her. 

On  the  eventful  Tuesday  morning,  Cricket 
awoke  bright  and  early  —  or  rather,  I  should 
say,  early  but  by  no  means  bright.  She  had  had 
a  most  unpleasant  dream  of  having  exchanged 
heads  with  an  elephant,  and  her  neck  was,  con- 
sequently, so  much  larger,  that  she  could  not 
fasten  her  collar  around  it.  Eunice  suggested 
they  should  make  a  new  collar  of  the  sail  of 
the  Gentle  Jane,  which  she  said  would  be  just 
large  enough.  That  seemed  a  good  suggestion, 
but  as  they  went  to  get  it,  they  saw  the  Q-entle 
Jane  being  taken  out  to  sea  by  some  playful 
seals. 

"Dear!  dear!"  said  Cricket  in  her  dreams. 
"Now  I'll  have  to  go  to  the  party  without 
anything  around  my  neck,  because  there  isn't 
anything  else  big  enough  to  make  a  collar  of, 
and  my  throat  is  getting  bigger  all  the  time." 
Just  then  she  awoke,  clutching  her  neck.  Sure 
enough,  it  did  feel  queer,  and  was  very  stiff 
on  one  side.  She  swallowed,  experimentally. 

"  I  don't  like  that  pretty  well,"  she  announced 
to  herself  as  the  result  of  her  attempt.  "  I  won- 


42  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

der  if  I  have  the  lumbago  in  my  throat,  —  and 
to-night  is  Emily's  party !  I  won't  have  a  sore 
throat.  I  never  did  in  my  life  before,  and  1 
won't  begin  to-night  —  provoking  old  thing  !  " 

She  swallowed  vigorously  several  times,  and 
winked  back  the  tears. 

"  There !  that  didn't  hurt  much.  Wonder  if 
it's  swollen."  She  hopped  out  of  bed  quickly,  and 
ran  to  the  glass.  She  opened  the  neck  of  her 
night-dress  and  examined  her  round,  white  throat 
critically.  It  certainly  was  a  trifle  larger  on 
one  side,  and  was  sore,  as  she  pressed  it  a 
little. 

"  Oh,  my  patience,  if  it  should  be  lumbago ! " 
she  groaned  tragically.  She  hadn't  the  faintest 
idea  what  lumbago  is,  but  the  name  sounded  to 
her  as  if  it  might  be  something  that  could  come 
in  the  throat.  "  Wonder  how  long  it  would  take 
lumbago  to  come  on.  I  ^vori't  have  it  begin  till 
after  to-night,  anyway.  How  queer  my  head 
feels !  I  guess  I'll  look  inside  my  throat." 

Cricket  turned  quickly  to  draw  up  the  shade, 
that  she  might  see  better  what  inroads  the 
"lumbago"  had  already  made.  The  quick 
movement  made  her  aching  head  dizzy.  She 
stumbled  forward,  tripped  over  her  long  night- 


A    "  MUMPFUL  "    PARTY.  43 

dress,  and  sat  down,  hitting  the  water  pitcher 
which  she  had  left  the  night  before  standing 
by  the  washstand.  Over  went  the  pitcher,  and 
out  came  a  deluge  of  water,  almost  setting  be- 
wildered Cricket  afloat,  as  she  lay  huddled  up 
on  the  floor. 

"  Cricket,  what  an  awful  racket  you're 
making,"  said  Eunice  sleepily,  from  her  bed. 
"  Don't  get  up  yet.  It  isn't  time.  It  isn't  light 
enough." 

"  Don't  get  up  ?  Do  you  think  I'm  going  to 
lie  here  and  drown  f  "  asked  Cricket  indignantly, 
getting  rather  weakly  on  her  feet.  "  I've  knocked 
over  the  water  pitcher."  She  pulled  the  towels 
off  the  rack,  and  began  mopping  up  the  flood 
that  crawled  in  every  direction.  "  I'm  wet 
through  to  my  bones,  I  do  believe,  and  there 
isn't  a  dry  inch  in  my  night-dress." 

"  Put  on  another  one,  and  get  on  your  bed- 
room slippers.  Don't  hop  around  there  another 
minute  with  your  bare  feet,"  ordered  Eunice, 
sleepily,  but  sensibly. 

Cricket  mopped  dejectedly.  "The  water 
tipped  straight  into  my  slippers.  There  !  That 
will  do  till  Jane  gets  at  it.  Ugh !  my  feet  are 
as  cold  as  chopsticks.  I'll  change  my  night- 


44  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

dress,  and  then  I'm  going  to  get  into  bed  with 
you,  Eunice,  and  get  warm." 

By  breakfast  time,  Cricket  felt  very  queer 
indeed.  At  any  other  time  her  mother  would 
have  noticed  her  lack  of  appetite  and  flushed 
cheeks;  but  just  now  it  was,  of  course,  put 
down  to  the  excitement  of  the  coming  event. 
Her  throat  was  stiffer  than  ever.  She  managed 
to  slip  down  a  little  oatmeal,  but  the  other,  things 
hurt  too  much  to  attempt. 

"  I  won't  have  lumbago  in  my  throat  till  after 
this  party,"  Cricket  repeated  grimly,  to  herself, 
as  she  went  up-stairs  to  get  ready  for  school. 
"  Only  —  I  do  wish  the  party  was  last  night,  and 
I  could  go  into  mamma's  room  and  lie  down  all 
day,  instead  of  going  to  school.  My  throat  gets 
sweller  and  sweller.  Do  you  suppose  it  could 
swell  up  so  that  I  couldn't  eat  anything,  and 
would  starve  to  death  ? " 

At  this  cheerful  thought,  Cricket  groaned  so 
deep  a  groan  that  Eunice  looked  around  in 
amazement. 

"  Was  that  you,  Cricket  ?  Did  you  hurt 
yourself?" 

"  No,  I  was  only  thinking.  Do  you  know  those 
irregular  French  verbs  ?  Aren't  they  awful  ? " 


A   "  MUMPFUL  "    PARTY.  45 

"  I  should  think  they  were.  They  are  enough 
to  make  a  cow  groan.  Ready  ?  Come  on.  Why, 
aren't  you  ready  ?  " 

Cricket  swallowed  an  unhappy  lump  in  her 
throat,  and  winked  back  a  tear.  How  her  throat 
did  hurt,  and  how  her  head  ached ! 

"I'm  not  quite  ready.  I  didn't  have  'Liza 
brush  my  hair  out,  and  it's  all  full  of  bones,  as 
Zaidie  says.  Upsetting  that  water  pitcher,  and 
mopping  it  up,  took  up  so  much  time.  There ! 
that  must  do.  Where  are  my  books  ?  Oh,  here. 
I'm  ready.  Come  on,"  and  Cricket  ran  out  first, 
lest  Eunice  should  see  her  face. 

The  keen,  fresh  air  seemed  to  do  her  head 
good,  and  by  the  time  she  reached  school,  she 
felt  a  little  better.  All  the  girls  were  chattering 
so  hard  about  the  party  that  night,  that,  for  the 
time  being,  Cricket  forgot  her  throat. 

Under  any  other  circumstances  her  manner 
and  appearance  would  have  attracted  notice  and 
comment.  But  it  must  be  confessed  that  from 
a  school  point  of  view,  the  day  was  a  general 
failure,  and  among  the  many  flushed  faces,  hers 
passed  unnoticed.  She  was  sometimes  languid 
and  dull,  and  then  excited  and  inattentive,  mak- 
ing all  kinds  of  queer  blunders.  She  finally  dis- 


46  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

tinguished  herself  by  announcing  in  her  history 
class  that  Tecumseh,  the  Indian  chief,  died  of  a 
severe  attack  of  lumbago,  exclaiming  as  he  fell, 
"  Don't  give  up  the  ship." 

"  Really,  Jean,  it  is  fortunate  that  parties  do 
not  come  every  day,"  said  her  long-suffering 
teacher,  rather  surprised  that  it  should  be 
Cricket  who  said  this,  for  the  child's  quick 
memory  rarely  failed  her.  Cricket  sat  scarlet 
and  mortified,  and  did  not  recover  even  when 
that  stupid  Mary  Blair  wrote  on  the  board  in 
the  grammar  class,  "Troy  was  concord  by  the 
Greasians." 

However,  the  day  slipped  away.  By  dinner- 
time, her  throat  felt  as  if  a  good-sized  potato 
had  taken  up  its  residence  there.  Her  head 
ached  and  her  bones  ached,  and  down  in  one 
corner  of  her  heart  she  began  to  wish  that 
some  one  would  say  positively  that  she  could  not 
go  to  the  party. 

Meantime,  after  luncheon  Eunice  had  begun 
to  feel  heavy-headed  and  stiff-necked  herself. 
Like  Cricket,  she  carefully  concealed  the  fact, 
and  resolutely  put  on  a  bright  face  and  a  very 
"  smily  "  smile,  if  any  one  looked  in  her  direc- 
tion. Each  child  was  so  absorbed  in  conceal- 


A  "MUMPFUL     PARTY.  AT 

ing  her  own  feelings  that  neither  noticed  the 
other. 

At  dinner,  both  being  rather  exhausted  by 
such  unusual  exertions,  they  were  so  silent  that 
papa  asked  them  finally  whether  this  was  the 
night  they  were  going  to  Emily  Drayton's  party, 
or  the  night  they  were  going  to  be  hanged.  He 
himself  had  forgotten,  he  said,  and  he  couldn't 
tell  by  their  faces. 

"They  have  been  going  to  this  party  every 
day  and  night  for  a  week,"  said  mamma,  looking 
rather  anxiously  at  each  flushed  face.  "  No 
wonder  they  are  all  tired  out  beforehand.  I 
had  them  both  lie  down  for  an  hour  this 
afternoon,  also.  My  chickens,  you  must  eat 
a  little  more  dinner  than  that,  if  you  are 
excited." 

"  I  positively  can't,  mamma,"  said  Cricket, 
feeling  every  moment  that  the  tears  would  come 
if  she  forced  another  morsel  past  that  awful 
lump,  that  now  felt  the  size  of  a  watermelon  to 
her.  Eunice  resolutely  choked  down  another 
bit  of  mashed  potato. 

"  I'm  too  excited,"  she  remarked,  with  a  great 
assumption  of  cheerfulness.  "  Mamma,  will 
you  excuse  Cricket  and  me,  and  let  us  go  up- 


48.  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

stairs  now  ?  I  don't  want  any  dessert,  do  you, 
Cricket?" 

Cricket  jumped  up  briskly. 

"  No,  indeed.  Please  'scuse  us,  mamma," 
and  equally  glad  to  escape,  the  two  children 
flew  up-stairs.  Each  began  to  make  conversa- 
tion as  they  dressed.  Eliza  was  there,  waiting 
to  help  them. 

"  Lawks,  how  hot  your  face  is ! "  said  Eliza, 
her  hand  touching  Cricket's  cheek,  as  she 
brushed  the  brown  curls  till  the  gold  light  in 
them  shone  out. 

"  It's  excitement,"  said  Eunice.  "  Mine's 
hot,  too ;  just  feel.  Ouch  !  "  with  an  undigni- 
fied exclamation,  as  Eliza's  hand  touched  the 
lower  part  of  her  cheek  rather  heavily. 

Cricket  suddenly  flashed  a  quick  glance  at  her. 

"Eunice,"  she  said  hastily,  as  Eliza  left  the 
room  for  a  moment,  "  does  your  throat  feel 
queer  ?  " 

"  Yes.  How  do  you  know  ?  "  answered  Eunice, 
surprised. 

"  'Cause  mine  does,  awfully.  It  has  all  day. 
And  my  head  aches." 

"  So  does  mine  !  " 

"  And  I'm  so  hot  —  " 


GKTTING    READY    FOR    THE    PARTY. 


A    "  MUMPFUL  "    PARTY.  51 

«  So  am  I." 

"  And  I  feel  so  queer  all  over." 

"So  do  I.  What  can  be  the  matter?  It 
can't  be  the  party ! " 

"  A  party  we  haven't  been  to  can't  make  us 
sick.  No;  I'm  afraid  we're  going  to  have  the 
lumbago  in  our  throats,  and  I  think  that's  some- 
thing dreadful." 

"Lumbago?  It  sounds  dreadful.  Why,  I 
never  heard  of  it.  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I've  heard  of  it.  I  heard  papa  telling 
mamma  that  May  Chester's  grandmother  had 
it,  and  you  know  how  sick  she's  been  this  fall." 

"  This  lump  in  my  throat  is  bad  enough  for 
anything,"  sighed  Eunice,  putting  her  hand  to 
it.  "  But  let's  stand  it  till  the  party  is  over, 
Cricket." 

"  m  stick  it  out,"  said  Cricket,  with  grim 
determination. 

Mamma  came  in  just  here  and  put  the  finish- 
ing touches  to  the  dainty  dresses,  and  then  they 
went  down  to  the  back  parlour  to  exhibit  them- 
selves in  all  their  bravery  to  papa  and  Marjorie. 

Donald  sauntered  in  as  they  were  being  duly 
admired. 

"Hollo,  kids!     What    giddy  -  looking    girls! 


52  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

I  am  proud  of  you.  Be  sure  and  be  good  girls. 
Don't  forget  to  '  open  your  eyes  and  look  very 
wise,  although  you  feel  very  silly.' " 

"  But  we  don't  feel  very  silly,"  returned 
Eunice  with  dignity.  "  We're  not  Freshmen 
in  college." 

"  Been  polishing  your  wits  for  the  party,  I 
see.  Good  plan,  my  Lady  Greasewrister,  and 
Madame  Van  Twister,  your  ladyship's  sister." 

"  You  always  did  call  us  names,  and  I  s'pose 
you  always  will,"  said  Cricket  tolerantly.  "  But 
it  amuses  you,  and  we  don't  care  —  do  we, 
Eunice  ?  Isn't  it  time  to  go,  mamma  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  carriage  is  waiting.  Put  on  my 
cloak  for  me,  Donald.  Thank  you,  dear.  All 
ready,  my  little  maids." 

It  was  some  distance  to  Emily  Drayton's,  and 
during  the  drive  the  children  were  so  silent 
that  mamma  was  a  little  worried.  So  little 
excitement  of  this  kind  was  allowed  them,  that 
generally  they  were  as  merry  as  grigs. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  girls  ?  I  never  saw 
such  sober  little  faces  bound  for  a  party.  Is 
anything  wrong  ? " 

Cricket  longed  to  confess  that  her  throat  felt 
like  a  boiled  pudding,  that  the  skin  of  her  neck 


A  "MUMPFUL"  PARTY.       ,       53 

was  queer  and  stretched,  that  the  lights  danced 
confusedly  before  her  eyes,  and  that  she  wanted 
to  turn  around,  go  home,  and  go  to  bed.  How- 
ever, since  she  had  borne  it  all  day,  she  did  not 
exactly  like  to  sacrifice  so  much  resolution,  and 
giving  Eunice's  hand  a  tight  squeeze,  she  said : 

"  No,  it's  nothing  much ;  only  a  joke  we're 
going  to  tell  you  after  the  party." 

"  A  joke,"  said  mamma  suspiciously.  "  Hadn't 
you  better  tell  me  now  ?  " 

"No,  really,"  said  Cricket  earnestly.  "It 
doesn't  have  anything  to  do  with  anybody  but 
ourselves,  truly,  mamma,"  quite  believing  her 
words. 

"  I  don't  like  jokes  that  make  you  look  so 
sober,  my  chickens.  Cricket,  are  you  very  warm, 
dear  ?  Your  cheeks  are  so  red  that  they  are 
almost  purple." 

"  It's  warm  in  the  carriage.  Don't  you  think 
so  ?  "  struck  in  Eunice.  And  then  mamma,  to 
take  up  their  minds,  began  to  talk  brightly  about 
some  funny  occurrence  that  she  had  seen  that 
morning  while  she  was  marketing,  and  the  chil- 
dren almost  forgot  their  respective  woes. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  Drayton's,  most  of 
the  children  were  already  there.  The  lovely 


54  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

house  presented  a  gay  scene.  Emily  greeted 
Eunice  and  Cricket  rapturously. 

"  I  was  so  afraid  that  something  had  happened, 
and  you  weren't  coming,"  she  said.  "  We  are 
just  going  to  play '  Quack,'  and  Cricket  is  always 
so  funny  in  that.  Come  over  here." 

The  classic  game  of  "  Quack "  was  started. 
All  of  you  know  it,  do  you  not  ?  A  large  circle 
is  formed,  and  one  person,  blindfolded,  stands 
in  the  middle  with  a  cane  in  her  hand.  The 
circle  moves  slowly  around  till  the  person  in  the 
centre  thumps  the  cane  as  a  signal  to  stop,  and 
then  it  is  pointed  at  some  one.  This  person 
takes  the  other  end  of  the  cane,  and  the  blind- 
folded one  asks  any  question,  which  must  be 
answered  by  the  word  "  Quack,"  uttered  in  a 
disguised  voice.  The  one  in  the  centre  must 
guess  the  speaker,  and  is  allowed  three  ques- 
tions. 

Cricket  was  always  in  demand  for  the  centre, 
because  her  quick  wits  supplied  her  with  funny 
questions.  To-night,  however,  she  rather  lost 
her  reputation,  for  her  tired  little  brain  could 
concoct  nothing  more  original  than,  "  What  is 
your  name  ? "  "  Do  you  like  butter  ? "  and  all 
the  other  stupid  questions  that  everybody  asked. 


A  "MUMPFUL"  PARTY.  55 

One  game  succeeded  another,  but  somehow  noth- 
ing went  very  briskly.  Presently  Mrs.  Drayton 
drew  Mrs.  Ward  aside,  anxiously. 

«  What  is  the  matter  with  these  children  ?  It 
is  so  hard  to  get  them  started  at  anything. 
They  don't  seem  to  be  having  a  good  time." 

"  I've  noticed  something  wrong,"  said  Mrs. 
Ward,  looking  about  her.  "  I  never  knew  it  so 
before,  especially  at  this  house.  I've  been  watch- 
ing my  own  two  pretty  closely,  and  something  is 
certainly  wrong." 

"  See  !  "  said  Mrs.  Drayton  « that  is  the  eighth 
child  that  has  dropped  out  of  that  game,  and 
it  is  so  with  everything  we  have  started." 

"  There  is  something  in  the  air,"  Mrs.  Ward 
said  to  her  friend.  "  And  look !  there  is 
Cricket  actually  sitting  all  alone  behind  that 
palm,  with  her  head  in  her  hand.  I  asked  her 
a  few  minutes  ago  what  is  the  matter,  but  she 
insists  there  is  nothing.  Why  not  hasten  sup- 
per ?  " 

"  That's  always  a  good  suggestion,"  answered 
Mrs.  Drayton.  "  Will  you  set  them  to  playing 
*  Going  to  Jerusalem,'  then  they  will  be  all 
ready  to  march  out.  Mrs.  Fleming  will  play 
for  them." 


56  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

Even  "  Going  to  Jerusalem "  was  not  a 
brilliant  success.  Most  of  the  children  marched 
rather  listlessly  around,  dropping  into  chairs 
when  the  music  stopped,  without  the  usual 
scramble.  Many  of  the  little  faces  were  flushed 
a  dark  red,  and  eyes  were  heavy-lidded.  The 
announcement  of  supper  was  a  relief,  but  Mrs. 
Drayton's  quick  eyes  noticed,  to  her  perplexity, 
that  many  of  the  dainty  dishes  were  passed 
by  untouched,  and  that  on  many  a  plate 
the  luscious  creams  and  ices  were  scarcely 
tasted. 

Directly  after  supper  Cricket  sought  Eunice. 

"  Eunice,  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer.  The 
party  is  most  out,  and  I  must  tell  mamma  that 
I  have  lumbago  in  my  throat.  If  I  don't,  it  may 
get  so  bad  it  can't  be  mended.  I  mean  cured. 
Do  you  mind  very  much  if  I  ask  mamma  to 
take  us  home  ?  The  party  isn't  half  as  nice  as 
I  thought  it  was  going  to  be." 

"  I  don't  mind  a  bit,"  said  Eunice,  with  an 
unexpected  readiness.  "  I  feel  too  queer  for 
anything.  Do  you  suppose  it's  something  awful 
we've  got,  Cricket  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  two 
persons  plastered  together.  There's  so  much 


A  "MUMPFUL     PARTY.  57 

of  me.  My  eyes  are  pulled  sideways  down  to 
my  ears.  I  feel  so  queer  and  big,"  finished 
Cricket,  dolefully. 

So  a  few  minutes  later  Mrs.  Ward  heard  a 
dilapidated  little  voice  behind  her : 

"  Mamma  dear,  we're  ready  to  go  home 
whenever  you  are." 

Mamm  was  absolutely  paralysed  by  this 
unexpected  remark. 

"Cricket!  is  it  you?  What  is  the  matter, 
dear?  Are  you  ill?" 

"No-o.  At  least  I  think  not.  But  — well 
—  my  head  aches  a  little  and  my  throat  is  stiff 
and  hot,  and  my  eyes  are  leaky  and  I'm  sort  of 
dizzy,  and  — 

"  My  darling  child !  your  throat  is  sore  ? 
Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before?  Where's 
Eunice  ?  We  will  go  immediately.  Find  Eu- 
nice, and  both  of  you  slip  away  to  the  dress- 
ing-room without  speaking  to  any  one.  I'll  say 
good-by  for  you  to  Emily  and  Mrs.  Drayton." 

"  Eunice  is  ready,  mamma.  She  feels  queer, 
too." 

Mrs.  Ward's  heart,  mother-like,  jumped  into 
her  mouth.  Cricket's  description  of  her  feelings 
might  mean  any  one  of  so  many  things  !  How- 


58  EUNICE   AND   CRICKET. 

ever,  she  kept  a  calm  face,  and  hastened  to 
explain  matters  to  Mrs.  Drayton. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  almost  believe  that  all  the 
children  are  coming  down  with  something,"  said 
Mrs.  Drayton,  anxiously.  "  That  would  account 
for  their  all  being  so  heavy  and  dull,  and  hard 
to  amuse.  Poor  little  Emily  is  in  despair.  She 
has  looked  forward  to  this  so  long ! " 

The  next  day,  seventeen  of  the  children  who 
had  been  at  the  party  were  down  with  the 
mumps. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN    QUARANTINE. 

"  So  it's  only  the  mumps  ! "  sighed  Cricket, 
with  much  relief,  after  papa's  visit  to  their 
respective  bedsides  the  next  morning.  "Papa, 
do  you  know  I  was  dreadfully  afraid  that  I  had 
lumbago  in  my  throat  all  day  yesterday,  when 
it  was  all  swelly-feeling  and  hurt  so  to  swallow. 
That  would  have  killed  me,  wouldn't  it?" 

Papa  laughed  hard. 

"  It  might  be  a  serious  matter  if  you  had  it 
in  your  throat,  but  you  are  in  no  more  danger 
of  its  getting  there  than  you  are  of  having 
toothache  in  your  toes,  my  Lady  Jane.  Will 
you  take  a  look  at  yourself  this  morning  ?"  and 
papa  held  up  a  hand  mirror. 

All  resemblance  to  Cricket  had  totally  disap- 
peared from  the  swollen-faced  little  maid  on  the 
bed,  and  the  child  stared  in  blank  astonishment. 

"  Is  that  me  ?"  she  gasped. 

"  It  is  you,  grammar  and  all,"  laughed  papa, 


60  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

turning  to  Eunice,  who  lay  in  her  cot  on  the 
other  side  of  the  room.  "Admire  each  other 
to  your  heart's  content,  for  you  are  just  alike, 
my  blooming  little  beauties." 

"  It's  bad  enough  to  be  sick  without  being  such 
frights,"  said  Eunice  dolefully.  "  Cricket,  you 
look  so  funny.  I  want  to  laugh  at  you  all  the 
time,  and  I  can't  laugh  for  my  face  is  so  stiff 
that  I  can't  seem  to  manage  it." 

"  I've  been  wanting  to  laugh  at  you  ever  since 
we  woke  up,  but  I  didn't  want  to  hurt  your  feel- 
ings," said  Cricket,  politely.  "  I  didn't  know 
I  looked  just  as  worse." 

"  You  look  '  just  as  worser,'  if  anything,  little 
Lindley  Murray,"  said  papa,  rising  to  go. 

"  But  I  don't  feel  so  very  sick  to-day,  except- 
ing my  head.  Couldn't  I  get  up  by-and-by, 
papa?  My  legs  feel  so  kicky." 

"  Yes,  you  may  get  up,  but  don't  leave  this 
room,  remember.  Here  comes  mamma  now. 
Have  you  given  Eliza  directions  about  the  chil- 
dren, dear?" 

"  Yes,  she  will  keep  them  on  the  nursery 
floor.  So  these  two  can  get  up  ?  That's  nice. 
Mumps  may  not  be  very  comfortable,  my  chick- 
ens, but  it  is  nothing  dangerous,  if  you  don't 


IX    QUARANTINE.  61 

take  cold.  Think  of  you  two  going  to  the  party 
last  night  in  that  condition  !  " 

"  I  guess  it  was  the  mumpfulest  party  there 
ever  was,"  said  Cricket  musingly.  "  I  don't 
believe  there  was  a  single  unmumpful  child 
there.  Good-by  papa ;  be  sure  and  stop  and  see 
if  Emily  has  the  mumps  —  and  if  she  hasn't, 
I'll  send  her  some." 

"  It  might  be  a  good  plan  to  have  an  auction 
sale  of  them,"  laughed  papa,  as  he  left  the  room. 

The  day  was  a  long  and  weary  one,  and  in 
spite  of  mamma's  company  and  of  many  amuse- 
ments, Eunice  and  Cricket  were  glad  to  creep 
back  into  bed  again  early  in  the  afternoon. 
Cricket  was  much  the  sicker  of  the  two  chil- 
dren, for  she  had  taken  a  little  cold  from  her 
unexpected  plunge  the  morning  before. 

Just  before  dinner  Donald  came  in,  and  went 
directly  to  his  father's  office. 

"  Father,  I  feel  confoundedly  queer,"  he  said. 
"  I  wish  you'd  give  me  something.  My  throat 
is  thick  and  I  can  scarcely  swallow,  and  I've  a 
splitting  headache,  and  a  toothache  around  my 
entire  jaw.  Please  patch  me  up,  for  I  have 
to  go  to  a  society  meeting  to-night." 

Doctor   Ward    lay    back    in    his    office-chair 


62  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

and  looked  up  at  his  tall  son  with  a  quizzical 
smile. 

"  H'm  !  lumbago  in  your  throat  too,  eh  ?  Sit 
down  here,  old  boy,  and  let  me  have  a  look  at 
you." 

Donald  sat  down,  while  his  father  asked  him 
a  question  or  two.  Then  Doctor  Ward  burst 
out  laughing.  Donald  looked  injured. 

"I  presume  it  is  nothing  serious  then,"  he 
said,  with  so  precisely  the  same  air  of  dignity 
that  the  younger  children  often  assumed  when 
he  teased  them,  that  his  father  laughed  harder. 

"  It's  serious  or  not,  as  you  take  it,"  he  said. 
"  For  my  part,  I  think  it's  decidedly  serious.  My 
dear  fellow,  you  have  the  mumps." 

Donald  jumped  about  two  feet. 

"  Mumps !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  That  baby-dis- 
ease at  my  age  !  Great  Caesar's  ghost !  how 
the  fellows  will  guy  me  !  "  He  dropped  down  in 
a  chair,  with  his  feet  straight  out  in  front  of  him 
—  a  comical  picture  of  despair. 

"  It  was  considerate  of  you  to  come  home 
to  have  them,"  said  Doctor  Ward  comfortingly. 
"  Eunice  and  Cricket  are  just  down  with  them. 
We'll  quarantine  you  all  together,  and  then  you 
can  amuse  each  other." 


IN    QUARANTINE  63 

"  The  kids,  too  ?  "  groaned  Donald.  "  See 
here!  Did  they  give  'em  to  me?  I'll  wallop 
them ! " 

Doctor  Ward  laughed  harder. 

"  I  don't  know  where  they  came  from,  yet. 
I've  had  twenty  cases  to-day.  Most  of  the  chil- 
dren at  the  Drayton  party  are  down.  '  A  mump- 
ful  affair,'  as  Cricket  says.  You  may  have 
picked  them  up  on  the  street-cars.  You  could 
not  have  gotten  them  from  our  children." 

"  Then  I'll  stay  home  till  the  confounded 
things  are  over,"  said  Donald,  rising.  "  I  sup- 
pose I  mustn't  go  to  dinner?  Are  the  kidlets 
down?  No?  Well,  I'll  go  to  my  room  and 
stay  there.  Since  Eunice  and  Cricket  are  next 
door  to  it,  that's  all  right.  Is  mother  with  the 
kids  ?  I'll  look  in  on  them." 

So,  just  as  mamma  was  cudgelling  her  dis- 
tracted brain  for  more  stories  to  tell  her  two 
forlorn  children,  a  knock  was  heard  at  the  door, 
and  Donald's  curly  head  poked  itself  in. 

"Hollo,  Lady  Greasewrister,  and  Madame 
Van  Twister,  her  ladyship's  sister !  How  are 
your  noble  mumpships  ?  " 

"  Go  'way,  Don,"  called  Cricket  dolefully. 
"  We're  all  inumpy  in  here.  You'll  get  them." 


64  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

But  Donald  boldly  advanced.  "  Your  humble 
servant,  Madame  Van  Twister.  Your  gracious 
majesty  was  pleased  to  smile  on  me  last  night,  and 
your  native  generosity  shares  even  your  ailments 
with  me.  Behold,  thy  servant  also  is  mumpy." 

"  You,  too,  Donald,"  shrieked  Eunice  delight- 
edly. "  Oh,  don't  make  me  laugh,"  holding  her 
hands  to  her  throat.  "  Isn't  it  funny,  mamma  ? 
I  didn't  know  Freshmen  ever  had  mumps  and 
things." 

"  Are  you  going  to  stay  here  with  us,  Don, 
really  ? "  said  Cricket  interestedly. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Scricket,  I  am.  Any  objections  ? 
That  is,  in  my  cell  next  door.  And  as  we  are 
jointly  quarantined  from  the  rest  of  the  family, 
I  foresee  we'll  have  some  high  old  times.  Oh, 
how  they'll  wish  they  had  the  mumps  ! " 

"  Poor  boy ! "  said  Mrs.  Ward,  sympathetically. 
"  What  a  nuisance  for  you !  " 

For  a  week  the  mumps  held  high  carnival 
at  the  Ward's.  Imagine,  if  you  can,  the  effect 
of  all  those  swollen  faces  in  a  group.  If  Eunice 
and  Cricket  looked  funny,  they  were  nothing  to 
lordly  Donald,  whose  face  was  extended  to  the 
funniest  possible  proportions,  for  he  had  the 
affliction  only  on  one  side. 


IN    QUARANTINE.  65 

"  WeVe  a  regular  fat  man's  picnic,"  said 
Cricket  the  day  that  Zaidie  joined  the  up-stairs 
party.  For  by  the  usual  law  of  contraries, 
Zaidie,  who  was  always  strong  and  well,  suc- 
cumbed after  two  days,  and  delicate  little  Helen, 
as  well  as  Kenneth,  entirely  escaped. 

After  Zaidie  was  promoted  to  the  third  floor, 
the  original  occupants  had  all  the  delights  of 
a  bear-garden.  It  was  fortunate  for  her  long- 
suffering  family  that  Zaidie  was  seldom  ill,  for 
she  was  the  hardest  possible  child  to  take  care 
of  when  she  was.  When  she  was  well,  she  was 
sunny-tempered,  like  the  rest.  She  was  harder 
now  than  she  would  have  been  otherwise,  for 
really  the  poor  little  thing  was  dismally  home- 
sick for  her  little  twin,  her  other  self,  from 
whom  she  had  scarcely  ever  been  separated  an 
hour  in  her  life. 

After  two  days  of  Zaidie's  confinement  up- 
stairs, Eunice  and  Cricket  were  in  such  a  state 
of  exasperation  and  excitement  over  the  poor 
little  thing's  constant  wailing  and  fretting  for 
Helen,  her  refusing  to  be  comforted  or  amused, 
that  it  was  plain  she  must  have  a  room  to  her- 
self. Marjorie  was  detailed  to  look  after  her 
especially. 


66  EUNICE   AND   CRICKET. 

Marjorie,  it  fortunately  chanced,  had  had  the 
mumps  when  she  was  small.  Moreover,  Zaidie 
was  passionately  attached  to  this  eldest  sister  of 
hers.  When  the  little  twins  were  born,  Mar- 
jorie, aged  nine,  had  eagerly  begged  that,  since 
mamma  had  two  babies  now,  she  might  have 
one  of  these  to  "call  hers."  Mamma  let  her 
choose,  and  her  selection  instantly  fell  upon  the 
big,  black-eyed  baby,  which  appealed  to  her 
childish  heart  much  more  than  the  tiny,  violet- 
eyed  one,  that  was  so  delicate  that  for  a  year  it 
was  scarcely  out  of  its  mother's  or  its  nurse's 
arms. 

Marjorie  had  always  petted  Zaidie  after  that, 
and  made  much  of  her"  and  called  her  "  her 
baby,"  and  the  strong-willed  little  maid  obeyed 
Marjorie  better  than  any  one  but  her  father  and 
mother.  Marjorie  delighted  in  her,  because  she 
was  such  a  fine,  noble-looking  child,  with  her 
erect,  firmly-knit  little  figure,  her  short,  silky 
black  hair,  her  great,  dark  eyes,  and  peachy 
complexion.  She  loved  to  take  her  to  walk,  for 
strangers  would  turn  and  look  after  her,  or  per- 
haps stop  and  ask  whose  child  she  was. 

Helen,  with  her  dainty  beauty,  her  fluffy 
golden  hair,  and  tiny  figure,  was  not  nearly  so 


IN    QUARANTINE.  67 

striking-looking,  though,  after  all,  her  caressing, 
lovable  little  ways  made  her  rather  the  family 
pet  and  baby,  even  more  than  Kenneth,  with  his 
sturdy  boy-ways.  It  is  very  apt  to  be  the  case, 
however,  in  a  large  family,  that  each  one  of  the 
older  ones  takes  a  younger  one  under  his  or  her 
special  charge.  Thus,  as  Marjorie  had  adopted 
Zaidie,  Eunice  laid  claim  to  Helen  as  her  baby. 
In  this  same  way,  Cricket  felt  that  Kenneth  was 
her  particular  property. 

Therefore,  it  came  about  that  Marjorie  was 
quite  willing  to  undertake  Zaidie's  amusement, 
but  she  soon  discovered  that  a  "  mumpy  "  Zaidie 
tried  her  resources  to  the  uttermost.  Mamma 
was  with  her  also,  all  she  could  be,  but  with  the 
other  girls  needing  her  also,  and  with  Helen 
down  with  an  unusually  bad  attack  of  the  croup 
and  fretting  for  Zaidie  quite  as  much  as  her 
little  twin  did  for  her,  poor  mamma  said  that 
she  needed  to  be  three  people,  in  order  to  satisfy 
all  the  demands  upon  her.  Donald,  in  spite  of 
his  own  mumps,  came  bravely  to  the  rescue,  but 
Zaidie  managed  to  keep  them  all  busy. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

AN   UNEXPECTED   VISITOR. 

ON  the  fourth  day  of  imprisonment,  Doctor 
Ward  came  up  after  luncheon  and  carried  mam- 
ma, somewhat  against  her  will,  off  for  a  drive,  as 
she  had  not  been  out  of  the  house  for  a  breath 
of  fresh  air  since  the  Dray  ton  party.  Marjorie 
was  left  in  charge.  Zaidie,  just  in  the  state 
where  she  wanted  whoever  she  didn't  happen  to 
have  with  her,  wailed  disconsolately,  as  she 
stood  at  the  window  watching  her  father  and 
mother  drive  off. 

"I  want  something  to  'muse  me  with,  Mar- 
gie. Mamma's  gone  and  I  can't  —  see  —  Helen, 
and  I  hasn't  anything  —  to  'muse  me  —  with," 
she  sobbed,  flattening  her  nose  against  the  win- 
dow pane. 

"You  ungrateful  little  wretch,"  said  Donald, 
trying  to  make  a  face  at  her,  but  not  succeeding 
in  twisting  his  features  much  more  than  they 
were  already.  "  Here  are  two  people  devoting 


AN    UNEXPECTED    VISITOR.  69 

their  days  and  nights  to  keeping  your  highness 
serene  —  though  I  must  say  that  I  prefer  to 
be  paid  according  to  my  efforts  rather  than  my 
success." 

"  If  we  were  paid  according  to  our  success, 
we  wouldn't  go  to  Europe  on  the  proceeds," 
sighed  Marjorie.  "  See,  Zaidie,  there's  Johnnie- 
goat  trotting  down  the  street  —  I  do  believe  his 
tail  has  grown  a  little  longer.  Don't  you  think 
so?" 

Zaidie  dried  one  eye  and  peered  out.  In- 
stantly she  conceived  an  idea. 

"  I  want  to  see  Johnnie-goat.  I  hasn't  seen 
him  for  seventy-ten  years,  Marjorie.  I  want 
him  to  come  up  here  and  see  me." 

"  You  can  see  him  out  of  the  window,  pet. 
He  couldn't  come  up  here  —  goats  don't  know 
anything  about  houses,  you  know." 

Zaidie  instantly  shrieked.  Three  days  of  im- 
mediate obedience  to  her  demands  had  spoiled 
her. 

"I  want  him!  I  want  him!  My  throat's 
hurted  me  drefful,  an'  I  want  Johnnie-goat. 
I  want  him  —  up  —  here  !  " 

"  Great  Scott,  Zaidie !  stop  howling.  Let's 
have  him  up,  Meg.  Anything  for  a  diversion." 


70  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

"  But,  Don  !  the  goat  up  here  ?      We  can't." 

"In  the  bright  lexicon  of  youth,  there's  no 
such  word  as  'can't.'  I'll  whistle  down  the 
speaking-tube  to  Sarah  to  entice  him  into  the 
area,  and  I'll  go  down  and  bring  him  up  some- 
how. He  can't  do  any  harm,  and  if  it  quiets  the 
kidlet  for  a  moment,  it's  worth  trying.  Hollo, 
there,  Sarah ! " 

Sarah  responded,  and  the  order  was  given. 
Zaidie  stopped  sniffling,  and  watched  the  pro- 
ceedings eagerly  from  the  window. 

Sarah  —  much  amazed,  but  too  well  trained 
to  question  any  order  of  Master  Don's,  however 
peculiar  —  ran  out  to  induce  Johnnie-goat,  by 
every  blandishment  in  her  power,  to  enter  the 
basement  door.  But  wary  Johnnie-goat,  much 
more  accustomed  to  being  driven  away  from 
doors  by  the  application  of  broom-sticks  than 
being  volitely  entreated  to  enter,  suspected 
treachery,  and  backed  off,  moving  his  lowered 
head  from  side  to  side. 

The  whole  "  mumpy  "  tribe  eagerly  watched  the 
manoeuvres  from  above.  Sarah  would  approach 
him  with  an  indifferent,  abstracted  air,  as  if  she 
didn't  see  him  at  all,  and  then  would  suddenly 
make  a  grasp  at  his  horns.  Johnnie-goat  would 


AN    UNEXPECTED    VISITOR.  71 

stand  with  an  equally  abstracted  gaze  as  she 
came  nearer ;  then,  at  the  last  instant,  up  would 
go  his  heels  skittishly,  and  off  he  would  go,  to  a 
convenient  distance,  and  again  await  Sarah's 
approach.  She  displayed  banana-skins  tempt- 
ingly, and  drew  him,  by  means  of  them,  almost 
to  the  area  door,  when  the  same  performance 
would  be  repeated.  All  the  time  she  kept  up 
an  uncomplimentary  tirade  under  her  breath, 
mingled  with  her  enticing  words  to  him. 

"  Come,  Johnnie !  Johnnie  !  good  Johnnie  ! 
Oh,  yer  dirty  blackguard !  yer  wretched  spal- 
peen, you!  It's  a  clubbin'  with  a  big  shillaly 
I'd  be  after  givin'  you !  Come  here,  yer  good 
goaty  !  Come  and  see  the  purty  little  gal  what's 
waitin'  fur  ye  !  Oh,  the  capers !  takin'  that  son- 
of-a  gun  up-stairs !  You  murtherin'  wretch,  I'd 
drown  yer  fur  a  cint!  Come  here,  good  old 
goaty !  come  to  Sarah !  Ach,  murther,  howly 
saints !  git  yer  evil  eye  off  me ! "  as  Johnnie 
suddenly  reared  and  waltzed  around  on  his  hind 
legs,  in  a  way  peculiar  to  goats,  presenting  a 
low-bent  head  threateningly  in  her  direction.  • 

"  Get  hold  of  him  now,  Sarah,"  shouted 
Donald,  throwing  up  the  window  for  a  moment. 
"  He  won't  really  hurt  you.  Grab  his  horns !  " 


72  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

Here  Marjorie  slammed  down  the  window 
indignantly.  Sarah,  quaking  with  terror,  but 
feeling  she  must  obey  Mr.  Donald  though  the 
heavens  fell,  made  a  desperate  rush  and  really 
grabbed  the  threatening  horns  with  a  heavy 
hand.  She  was  big  and  strong,  and  as  soon  as 
she  actually  touched  him,  her  Irish  blood  was 
up  for  a  scrimmage.  Even  Johnnie-goat,  to  his 
own  intense  surprise  and  indignation,  was  as 
wax  in  her  hands.  Tucking  his  head  well  under 
her  arm,  by  main  strength  she  dragged  him 
along,  protesting  with  all  his  legs,  to  the  area- 
door.  By  that  time  Johnnie  had  recovered 
his  presence  of  mind,  and  then  ensued  a  tre- 
mendous racket  that  brought  the  waitress  to  the 
rescue. 

Johnnie-goat,  of  course,  was  filled  with  amaze- 
ment at  these  strange  proceedings,  and  his  shrill 
"  ba-a's  "  went  all  over  the  house.  Sarah  and 
Jane  dragged  him,  struggling  fiercely,  along  the 
basement  hall  to  the  stairs.  Then  Sarah,  getting 
him  by  his  wrathful  horns,  and  Jane  pushing 
from  behind,  wherever  she  could  get  hold, 
puffing  and  panting,  they  propelled  bewildered 
Johnnie-goat  remorselessly  up  the  stairway,  his 
sharp  little  hoofs  beating  a  strongly  rebellious 


AN    UNEXPECTED    VISITOR.  73 

tattoo  as  he  went,  bleating  like  a  whole  ranch 
of  goats. 

Over  the  stair-railing,  on  the  upper  floor, 
hung  five  eager  faces,  each  of  the  older  ones 
calling  out  different  suggestions,  while  Zaidie, 
her  mumps  all  forgotten,  shrieked  hoarse  ap- 
plause to  them  all.  As  Eliza  was  out  with 
Helen  and  Kenneth,  they  missed  all  this  excit- 
ing time. 

Arriving  on  the  second  floor,  panting  Sarah 
was  obliged  to  sit  down  on  the  stairs  to  rest. 
She  threw  her  apron  over  Johnnie-goat's  head, 
thereby  reducing  him  to  a  still  wilder  state  of 
amazement,  and  hugged  his  neck  tightly  under 
her  arm  to  keep  him  quiet. 

"  Hould  on  to  his  hinder-legs,  Jane,"  she  di- 
rected, and  Jane  immediately  got  hold  of  each 
wildly  kicking  hind  leg.  As  Johnnie-goat  was 
obliged  to  use  his  fore  legs  to  stand  on,  he  was, 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  reduced  to  a  con- 
dition of  ignominious  surrender.  His  vociferous 
cries  filled  the  house. 

The  children,  up-stairs,  were  in  shrieks  of 
laughter.  Sarah  looked  as  grimly  determined 
as  if  she  were  attacking  a  tramp.  She  strongly 
disapproved  of  the  whole  proceeding,  but,  as  is 


74  EUNICE   AND   CRICKET. 

often  the  case  with  the  servants  in  a  large  house- 
hold of  children,  she  was  absolute  devotion  to 
the  whole  tribe,  and  if  they  had  ordered  it, 
would  have  attempted  to  walk  up  the  side  of 
the  house.  Jane  was  doubled  up  with  laughter, 
and  with  difficulty  held  on  to  her  end  of  the 
captive.  Sarah  kept  up  a  running  comment. 

"  Be  still,  you  slathery  spalpeen ;  stop  kickin' 
me.  Ye've  kicked  me  till  the  futs  uv  me  is 
black  till  the  knee,  I'll  be  bound.  Rest  yerself 
the  while;  nobody's  going  to  hurt  yer.  Come, 
then,  if  yer  wants  to  go,  we'll  be  off  wid  yer 
now.  Take  another  h'ist,  Jane.  Shure,  Masther 
Don,  its  hopin'  ye've  got  a  rope  up  there  I  am, 
else  its  tearin'  yez  all  to  pieces  he'll  be." 

"  Come  on,"  shouted  Donald,  boyishly  ;  "bring 
on  your  plunder.  I've  got  a  trunk-strap  to 
fasten  him  with."  Donald  dived  into  the  trunk- 
room,  and  reappeared  with  a  long  strap. 

"  Oh,  my  goodness,  how  he  wiggles ! "  cried 
Zaidie,  clapping  her  hands  ecstatically,  as  the 
procession  started  up-stairs  again.  "Johnnie- 
goat!  Johnnie-goat!  keep  still,  and  let  Sarah 
carry  you,  there's  a  good  goatie ! " 

And  thus,  pushed  and  pulled,  Johnnie-goat, 
bewildered  and  indignant,  was  delivered  into 


AN    UNEXPECTED    VISITOR.  75 

Donald's  hands,  and  the  hot  and  panting  maids 
returned  down-stairs. 

Donald  fastened  the  long  strap  to  his  collar, 
and  then  to  the  balustrade.  Being  released 
from  durance  vile  —  that  is,  from  his  enforced 
retreat  under  Sarah's  strong  arm, —  he  shook 
himself  vigorously,  and  then  straightway  exe- 
cuted a  war-dance,  first  on  his  hind  legs  and 
then  on  his  fore  legs,  and  then,  apparently,  on 
one  at  a  time,  alternating  the  performance  with 
a  succession  of  dives  and  butts  that  sent  the 
children  shrieking  and  laughing  in  all  direc- 
tions out  of  his  way. 

"Oh,  my  throat!"  sighed  Cricket,  wiping  the 
tears  from  her  eyes.  "I've  certainly  split  my 
mumps !  Don't  make  me  laugh  so,  Johnnie-goat. 
Don't  you  know  your  friends?" 

Apparently  Johnnie  didn't,  for  he  instantly 
butted  fiercely  in  Cricket's  direction. 

"I  do  b'lieve  he's  hungry,"  said  Zaidie,  hos- 
pitably offering  him  a  newspaper.  In  the  midst 
of  his  wrath,  Johnnie-goat  recognised  this  famil- 
iar object,  and,  after  eying  it  a  moment,  he 
suddenly  dropped  his  warlike  demeanour,  ac- 
cepted the  paper  as  a  peace-offering,  and  fell 
to  chewing  as  placidly  as  if  he  stood  on  his 


76  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

native  heath  —  that  is,  the  livery  stableman's 
back  yard.  Under  the  calming  influence  of  this 
familiar  occupation,  he  soon  dropped  every  ap- 
pearance of  resentment,  and  finally  ducked  his 
head  in  his  usual  friendly  fashion,  to  let  Zaidie 
scratch  him  between  the  horns. 

One  of  Johnnie-goat's  accomplishments  was 
jumping  over  a  rope  held  a  foot  from  the  ground. 
Cricket  now  proposed  to  make  him  do  it,  as  the 
hall  was  long  enough  to  give  him  a  good  run  for 
it.  As  they  did  not  dare  to  let  him  go  entirely, 
Donald  tied  a  long,  stout  cord  to  each  side  of 
his  collar,  so  that  somebody  could  drive  him  and 
jump  the  rope  with  him.  Of  course  that  some- 
body was  Cricket.  When  the  reins  were  ready, 
and  Cricket  had  them  well  in  hand,  Donald  un- 
fastened the  trunk-strap,  and  Eunice  and  Zaidie 
each  held  an  end  of  it  in  place,  so  that  Johnnie- 
goat  could  jump  over  it. 

He  knew  the  programme  perfectly  well,  and 
stood  quietly  while  the  arrangements  were  being 
made. 

"  All  ready,"  cried  Donald,  as  much  a  boy  at 
heart  as  ever,  in  spite  of  his  eighteen  years  and 
his  Freshman  dignity.  "  Let  him  go,  Galla- 
gher!" 


AN    UNEXPECTED    VISITOR.  77 

"  Get  up,  sir !  "  cried  Cricket,  shaking  her 
string  reins.  Johnnie-goat  stood  provokingly 
still,  gazing  abstractedly  out  of  the  window. 

"  Get  up,  sir,"  repeated  Cricket,  giving  him  a 
gentle  push  in  the  rear  with  her  foot. 

The  touch  gave  Johnnie-goat  the  excuse  he 
had  been  waiting  for.  He  gave  one  of  his  sud- 
den darts,  dragging  the  strings  from  Cricket's 
hand,  and  was  free.  He  pranced  forward,  es- 
caping Donald's  hands,  knocked  down  Zaidie, 
who  promptly  howled,  and  dashed  into  Eunice's 
room.  There  he  encountered  a  small  table,  the 
contents  of  which  were  instantly  strewed  over 
the  floor,  while  the  children  ran  screaming  after 
him. 

"  My  work-basket !  "  shrieked  Eunice,  darting 
forward  to  rescue  it,  as  Johnnie-goat  stopped, 
with  one  foot  through  the  pretty  straw  cover, 
and  nibbled  inquisitively  at  a  tape  measure. 
He  kicked  out  behind  and  butted  in  front 
when  the  children  tried  to  catch  him,  and  then 
turned  his  attention  to  a  little  silver-topped 
emery. 

"  Oh,  Don  !  do  get  it !  cried  Eunice,  clasping 
her  hands  tragically,  as  the  emery  went  into 
the  capacious  mouth,  and  Johnnie-goat  medi- 


78  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

tatively  rolled  it  over  with  his  tongue,  to  get  its 
full  flavour. 

Don  deftly  seized  Johnnie-goat's  horns  with 
one  hand,  and  bent  back  his  head  with  the 
other,  pulling  at  the  silk  cord  that  droo'ped 
gracefully  out  from  his  mouth  —  thus  rescu- 
ing the  emery  from  its  Jonah-like  retreat. 

"  Oh !  oh ! "  wailed  Eunice,  taking  the  wet 
and  dirty  object  daintily  by  thumb  and  finger, 
"  it's  all  spoiled !  You  bad  Johnnie-goat !  Box 
his  ears,  Don.  Look  out,  Cricket,  there  he  goes 
at  your  new  shoes.  Do  get  him  down  stairs 
now.  Ow!  there  goes  my  Dresden  pin-tray!" 
with  a  shriek  of  despair.  Johnnie-goat,  whisk- 
ing from  side  to  side  of  the  room,  in  search  of 
new  excitement,  had  swept  his  bearded  chin 
over  the  low  dressing-table,  among  the  array 
of  pin-cushions,  trays,  bottles,  photographs,  and 
brushes.  Smash  went  the  dainty  Dresden  pin- 
tray  on  the  floor  as  Eunice  spoke,  and  Johnnie- 
goat  danced  off. 

"  Come,  you  young  bull  in  a  china  shop,  we've 
had  enough  of  you,"  said  Donald,  diving  after 
him,  and  catching  him  by  whatever  was  near- 
est. It  happened  to  be  his  tail,  which  was  a 
short  but  firm  handle.  Johnnie-goat  whipped 


AN    UNEXPECTED    VISITOR. 


AN    UNEXPECTED    VISITOR.  81 

around  indignantly,  and  Donald  grabbed  at  his 
horns. 

"  Whistle  down  the  tube  for  Sarah  to  take 
him,  Meg,"  he  called.  "  No,  stop ;  I'll  take  him 
down  myself,  the  kids  are  out  of  the  way.  Come 
this  way,  young  chap,"  and  Donald  pulled  and 
hauled  Johnnie,  vigorously  rebelling,  to  the  top 
of  the  staircase.  As  Johnnie  looked  down  to 
the  floor  below,  possibly  he  regarded  the  stairs 
as  some  curious  kind  of  mountains,  which  his 
inherited  instinct  made  familiar,  for  he  suddenly 
plunged  headlong  down  them  so  fast  that  Donald 
lost  his  balance,  and  went  heels-over-head  after 
him,  goat  and  Freshman  arriving  at  the  bottom 
at  the  same  moment,  in  an  inextricably  mixed- 
up  condition.  Overhead  the  excited  girls  watched 
and  screamed. 

Donald  unwound  his  long  length  slowly. 
He  and  the  goat  had  mutually  broken  each 
other's  fall,  and  nearly  each  other's  necks.  As 
it  happened,  neither  was  hurt.  At  least,  Donald 
discovered  that  he  was  not,  and  as  for  Johnnie- 
goat,  he  seemed  as  much  alive  as  ever,  but  in 
such  a  state  of  amazement  at  all  the  strange  ex- 
periences that  he  was  going  through,  that  he 
quietly  submitted  to  let  Don  lay  hold  of  his 


82  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

collar,  and  escort  him  at  a  slow  and  dignified 
walk  down  the  next  flight. 

They  were  half-way  down  when  there  was  a 
quick  click  of  a  latch-key,  and  the  front  door 
opened.  Doctor  Ward  and  a  stranger  entered. 
Both  stared  in  amazement. 

"How  under  the  canopy—  "  began  Doctor 
Ward;  but  Donald  interrupted  him,  explaining 
calmly : 

"  Goat  ran  away  from  the  Odd-Fellow's  Lodge, 
over  there.  The  poor  creature  is  nearly  starved ; 
I'm  taking  it  back." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A    PHILANTHROPIC    SCHEME. 

ONE  morning,  when  the  mumps  were  a  thing 
of  the  past,  Eunice  and  Cricket  walked  along  to 
school  arm-in-arm.  Cricket  swung  her  books, 
as  usual,  by  the  long  strap,  and  Eunice  had  hers 
snugly  tucked  under  her  arm.  Both  were  chat- 
tering as  fast  as  their  busy  tongues  could  wag. 
As  they  turned  around  the  corner  into  a  quiet 
street,  the  sound  of  a  crying  child  attracted 
their  attention,  though  at  first  there  was  noth- 
ing to  be  seen. 

"  There  it  is,"  said  Cricket.  "  See  that  mite 
up  there." 

The  "  mite  "  was  a  funny-looking  little  thing 
about  three  years  old,  poorly  dressed,  bare- 
headed, with  a  little  flaxen  pig-tail  sticking  out 
behind  each  ear.  The  child  stood  at  the  top  of 
some  steps,  wailing  steadily,  and  beating  its  lit- 
tle blue  fists  against  the  door. 

"It's  been  shut  out,  poor  little  thing,"  said 


84  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

Eunice,  running  up  the  steps  and  ringing  the 
bell,  vigorously.  "  Wait  a  moment,  Cricket,  till 
someone  comes  to  the  door." 

The  baby  stopped  crying  and  surveyed  her 
new  friend  with  a  pair  of  staring,  pale-blue  eyes. 

It  was  certainly  a  very  dirty  baby,  and  Eunice 
wondered  at  its  belonging  to  such  a  nice-looking 
house.  Then  a  trim  maid  opened  the  door. 

"  I  found  this  baby,  here,  trying  to  get  in," 
began  Eunice,  civilly,  "  so  I  rang  the  bell  for 
her,  and  waited  till  you  came  to  take  her  in." 

The  trim  maid  surveyed  the  baby  in  indignant 
scorn. 

"  It  don't  belong  here,  miss,  for  sure.  The 
likes  o'  that ! " 

"  Doesn't  belong  here  ?  The  poor  little  thing ! 
Then  she  must  be  lost.  She  was  pounding  on 
your  door  and  crying  dreadfully.  What  shall 
I  do  with  her?" 

"  '  Deed,  I  don't  know,  miss,"  answered  the 
maid,  backing  away  and  partly  shutting  the 
door,  as  if  afraid  that  Eunice  would  insist  on 
leaving  the  interesting  infant  there.  It  had 
immediately  adopted  Eunice  as  its  protector, 
apparently,  for  it  grasped  her  skirt  with  one 
hand,  and  with  a  thumb  tucked  deep  into  its 


THE    LOST    BABY. 


A    PHILANTHROPIC    SCHEME.  87 

mouth,  it  stood  passively  staring  from  one  to 
the  other.  Somebody  must  do  something,  that 
was  clear. 

"  Come  on,"  called  Cricket,  who  had  walked 
slowly  on.  "  Won't  she  go  in  ?  " 

"  Come  back  a  minute.  The  maid  says  she 
doesn't  belong  here.  What  shall  we  do  with 
her  ?  I  suppose  she's  lost.  Can't  I  leave  her 
here  ?  I  have  to  go  to  school,"  added  Eunice, 
turning  to  the  girl,  who  had  now  left  only  a 
crack  of  door  open. 

"'Deed,  no.  We  didn't  find  her,"  said  the 
girl,  impertinently.  "It  doesn't  belong  any- 
where about  here.  Take  her  to  the  police 
station.  We  can't  take  care  of  beggar's  brats," 
and  with  that  she  shut  the  door,  leaving  Eunice 
staring  as  blankly  at  the  door  as  the  baby  did 
at  her  dress. 

"What  a  horrid,  cross  girl!"  said  Eunice, 
indignantly,  at  last,  descending  the  steps  slowly 
to  accommodate  her  steps  to  the  short,  fat  legs 
beside  her.  The  child  still  clung  closely  to  a 
fold  of  her  dress. 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  it  ?  We'll  be  dread- 
fully late  for  school." 

"  Let's  take  it  to  school,"  suggested  Cricket. 


88  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  How  could  we  ?  Baby,  what  is  your  name, 
and  where  do  you  live  ?  " 

Baby  uttered  a  gurgle  that  doubtless  meant 
volumes,  but  which  the  girls  could  not  interpret. 
She  was  a  Dutchy-looking  little  thing,  with  a 
wide,  chubby  face  and  squat  little  figure.  Her 
little  flaxen  pig-tails  were  about  an  inch  and  a 
half  long,  and  were  tied  with  white  string. 

"  Shall  we  take  her  to  the  police  station  ? 
Let's  hurry,  whatever  we  do.  It's  'most  nine." 

"  The  police  station  ?  and  have  the  poor  little 
atom  locked  up  in  a  big,  black  cell  ?  "  exclaimed 
Eunice,  indignantly.  "  Never !  "  for  her  ideas 
as  to  the  exact  advantage  of  taking  a  lost  child 
to  a  police  station  were  somewhat  vague. 

"  Let's  take  her  to  the  little  bake-shop  wo- 
man by  the  school,  and  leave  her  there  for  the 
morning,  anyway.  I'm  sure  she'll  take  care 
of  her.  We'll  take  her  home  after  school,  and 
papa  will  see  about  her." 

Eunice  assenting  to  this  proposal,  they  now 
took  up  the  line  of  march.  People  glanced  and 
smiled  at  the  funny,  dirty  baby,  with  the  hand- 
kerchief that  Eunice  tied  over  its  head,  and 
the  two  well-dressed  children,  but  they  did  not 
notice  it 


A    PHILANTHROPIC    SCHEME.  89 

"  Eunice,  we  might  adopt  it ! "  cried  Cricket 
suddenly.  "  Wouldn't  that  be  fun  ?  It  could 
play  with  Kenneth,  and  'Liza  wouldn't  mind 
one  more  child  to  take  care  of." 

"What  fun!"  exclaimed  Eunice.  "And  if 
'Liza  didn't  want  the  trouble  we  could  do  it  our- 
selves. It  could  sleep  in  a  crib  in  our  room. 
I'd  wash  it  one  morning,  and  you  could  the 
next." 

"Yes,  and  we'd  spend  Saturday  mornings 
making  its  clothes." 

"  And  we'd  take  it  to  walk  when  we  got  home 
from  school  — 

"  And  we'd  teach  it  its  letters  —  " 

"  And  put  it  to  bed  —  " 

"  Would  we  have  to  spank  her  if  she  was 
naughty  ?  " 

"  Oh,  do  let's  beg  them  to  let  us  have  it  for 
our  very  own,  and  bring  it  up  ourselves.  Would 
you  like  to  live  with  us,  baby  ?  " 

The  possibility  of  a  distracted  mother,  search- 
ing around  for  the  child,  somehow  never  occurred 
to  the  girls,  in  their  planning  about  the  little 
waif,  and  they  chattered  on,  in  their  eagerness, 
till  they  reached  the  shop  of  the  little  baker, 
with  whom  they  meant  to  leave  the  child. 


90  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

The  good-natured  little  woman,  who  knew 
the  children  well  by  sight,  was  quite  interested 
in  their  story,  and  was  entirely  willing  to  take 
charge  of  the  lost  baby  till  one  o'clock.  She 
was  an  ignorant  little  German  woman,  and  she 
never  thought  of  telling  the  girls  to  send  it  to 
the  police  station  to  be  kept  till  its  friends  could 
look  it  up. 

The  thought  of  the  baby  kept  the  girls  ex- 
cited alh  the  morning.  After  school  they  started 
off  immediately,  without  waiting,  as  usual,  for 
their  friends.  The  baby  recognised  Eunice  as 
soon  as  she  appeared,  and  pulled  her  dress 
delightedly. 

"  Could  you  lend  us  something  to  put  on  her 
head  ?  "  asked  Eunice,  eyeing  the  flaxen  pig-tails 
doubtfully.  "  My  handkerchief  makes  her  look 
so  queer,  and  I'm  afraid  she'll  take  cold  without 
anything  over  her  head." 

The  little  bake-shop  woman  good-naturedly 
produced  a  very  remarkable-looking  cap  of  her 
own  baby's,  and  tied  it  on  the  little  waif's  head. 

"I  haf  ask  her  the  name,"  she  said,  as  she 
tied  the  strings,  "  but  I  no  unnerstan'  her.  She 
try  to  talk,  but  she  yust  — 

"  Jabbers,"  said  Cricket.     "  I  should  say  she 


A   PHILANTHROPIC    SCHEME.  91 

did.  Good-by  !  Thank  you  ever  so  much  for 
taking  care  of  her  for  us." 

When  the  girls  arrived  at  home  they  found  a 
free  field.  Mamma  had  gone  to  Marbury  to 
spend  the  day  with  grandma,  and  had  taken 
Kenneth  with  her.  Marjorie  was  out  to  lunch 
with  a  friend ;  and  papa,  Jane  said,  had  been 
unexpectedly  called  out  of  town  an  hour  ago, 
and  would  not  be  back  that  night.  They  took 
the  baby  up  to  the  nursery,  and  introduced  their 
prize  to  astonished  'Liza  and  the  twins. 

"  But  you  can't  keep  it,"  said  'Liza.  "  I  jest 
guess  its  poor  mother  is  running  all  around  the 
streets  looking  for  it." 

"Oh,  do  you  think  so?"  said  Eunice  sur- 
prised. "  Why,  I  never  thought  of  her.  Well,  of 
course,  papa  will  advertise  the  baby,  and  do 
everything  about  it,  but  if  we  don't  find  anyone 
belonging  to  her,  we  are  going  to  keep  her, 
Cricket  and  I." 

Whereupon  'Liza  pretended  to  faint  away. 

The  twins  were  perfectly  delighted  with  the 
addition  to  the  family. 

"  It's  just  like  the  little  boy  we  finded  once," 
piped  up  Zaidie,  "  only  it's  a  girl.  Auntie 
wouldn't  let  us  keep  it." 


92  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  This  is  a  really,  truly,  losted  baby,  though, 
and  Phelps  wasn't,"  explained  Helen.  "  He  had 
only  runned  away." 

The  "  losted  baby "  here  took  its  thumb  out 
of  its  mouth,  and  suddenly  began  to  cry. 

"  It's  hungry  !  "  announced  Cricket,  with  the 
air  of  one  discovering  America.  "  What  do  you 
s'pose  it  can  eat,  'Liza  ? " 

"  'Most  anything  it  can  get,  I  rather  guess,'1 
said  'Liza.  "  That  kind  generally  does,  and  is 
glad  to  get  it,  too." 

"She  isn't  'that  kind,'"  said  Cricket  indig- 
nantly, resenting  the  tone.  "  Come,  baby  ;  we'll 
go  down-stairs  and  get  some  bread  and  milk. 
You  'ittle  tunnin'  sing ! "  as  the  baby  stopped  in 
its  howl  as  suddenly  as  it  had  begun,  and  trotted 
away  contentedly  with  the  girls. 

Cook  duly  exclaimed  over  "  the  find,"  but  she 
reiterated  the  advice  of  the  cross  maid,  and 
recommended  them  to  take  the  baby  to  the 
police  station. 

"  Why  does  everybody  want  to  send  this  poor 
little  mite  to  the  police  station  ?  "  cried  Eunice. 
"  It  hasn't  done  a  thing,  only  got  lost,  and 
prob'ly  it  didn't  want  to  do  that ;  and  everybody 
wants  to  shut  it  up  in  a  big,  black  cell.  Papa 


A   PHILANTHROPIC    SC1IKMK.  93 

can  advertise  it  when  he  gets  home,  if  he  likes, 
and  if  anybody  comes  for  it  they  can  have  it. 
If  no  one  does  come,  we'll  keep  you  ourselves ; 
won't  we,  baby  ?  Drink  the  milk,  now." 

"  Wish  we  knew  its  name,"  said  Cricket. 

"  Let's  name  it  something  ourselves,"  sug- 
gested Eunice. 

"  To  be  sure.  Don't  you  know  when  Pharaoh's 
daughter  found  Moses  she  named  him  Moses, 
herself?  Oh,  Eunice,  let's  call  her  Mosina!" 

"  Oh,  Cricket,  how  lovely  !  Just  the  thing ! 
We  didn't  find  her  in  the  bulrushes,  but  we 
did  find  her  on  some  steps.  Oh,  you  darling 
Mosina !  I  hope  your  mother  won't  come  for 
you !  " 

When  the  new  arrival  had  finished  her 
luncheon,  and  the  children  had  had  theirs,  they 
carried  Mosina  off  to  their  room.  Zaidie  and 
Helen  immediately  came  toiling  up  from  the 
nursery,  to  help  entertain  their  guest.  Fortu- 
nately she  was  not  at  all  shy,  and  jabbered  and 
gurgled  in  her  unintelligible  baby  talk,  showing 
the  greatest  readiness  to  be  amused. 

"La!  she's  awful  dirty,"  said  Eliza,  looking 
in  on  them  presently.  "I  wouldn't  touch  her 
with  a  ten-foot  pole." 


94  EUNICE   AND   CRICKET. 

"  Let's  wash  her,  and  dress  her  up  in  Ken- 
neth's things,"  cried  Cricket,  straightway  catch- 
ing hold  of  Mosina,  who  speedily  stood  arrayed 
only  in  her  own  rosy  skin;  for  the  dirt  which 
'Liza  had  exclaimed  at,  was  really  chiefly  on  her 
hands  and  face. 

Eunice  drew  the  water  in  the  bathtub,  and  all 
four,  with  great  laughing  and  excitement,  super- 
intended a  very  thorough  scrubbing  process,  to 
the  infinite  amazement  of  the  small  child,  who 
had  probably  never  been  so  scrubbed  before  since 
she  was  born. 

There  was  a  small  bruise  on  one  side  of  the 
round,  dimpled  thigh,  that  presently  caught 
Zaidie's  attention. 

"  Here's  another  dirt-spot,  Eunice,"  she  said, 
with  an  air  of  much  importance  at  the  discovery. 
It  was  so  delightful  to  be  the  scrubber  instead 
of  the  scrubbee.  She  seized  the  nail-brush,  and 
squeezing  in  under  Eunice's  arm,  began  vigor- 
ously applying  it  to  the  baby's  soft  flesh.  That 
small  person  instantly  howled  again. 

"  Stop,  Zaidie !  that  isn't  dirt,  it's  a  bruise," 
said  Eunice,  taking  the  nail-brush  away.  "  Can't 
you  tell  the  difference  ? " 

"  Not  unlets  I  poke  'em,"  said  Zaidie,  looking 


A   PHILANTHROPIC    SCHEME.  95 

surprised.  "  When  I  have  one  I  always  poke  it, 
and  if  it  hurts  I  know  it's  a  bruise.  If  it  doesn't 
I  guess  it's  dirt.  I  couldn't  tell  it  on  the  baby, 
could  I  ?  " 

"You  had  better  experiment  on  yourself," 
said  Cricket,  laughing.  "  There,  Miss  Mosina, 
you're  pretty  clean  now,  I  think.  Let's  take 
her  out,  Eunice.  Put  down  the  big  bath-towel, 
Zaidie." 

Baby  had  endured  the  process  in  awed  silence 
thus  far,  but  when  she  stood  dripping  like  a 
little  cupid  on  the  bath-towel,  she  patted  her 
round,  fat  legs  with  every  appearance  of  de- 
light, and  even  attempted  to  climb  back  into  the 
tub.  It  was  probably  her  first  experience  of  a 
plunge. 

"  You  cunning  thing !  "  cried  Eunice,  as  rap- 
turously as  if  she  had  never  seen  a  small  child 
tubbed  before.  "  Cricket,  won't  you  run  and  ask 
'Liza  for  some  of  Kenneth's  clothes?  I  don't 
want  to  put  her  dirty  ones  on  her  again." 

Cricket  ran  off  and  presently  came  back, 
laughing. 

"  'Liza  says  she  couldn't  dress  such  little 
beggars  in  gentlemen-folkses'  children's  clothes, 
but  finally  she  let  me  have  these  old  ones,  that 


96  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

mamma  had  put  by  to  give  away.  Let  me  see ; 
where  do  you  begin  ? " 

"I  know,"  said  Zaidie;  and  by  the  united 
efforts  of  all  four,  Mosina  was  presently  arrayed. 

This  process  had  taken  up  a  great  part  of  the 
afternoon,  and  at  this  moment,  Marjorie,  who 
had  just  returned,  came  running  up-stairs. 

"  Oh,  have  mamma  and  Kenneth  come  back 
so  early?"  she  said,  catching  sight  of  a  tiny 
figure  in  a  familiar  blue  dress. 

"  No,  but  this  is  our  new  baby,  and  we're 
going  to  adopt  it,  if  its  mother  doesn't  come 
for  it ;  and  I  don't  much  believe  she  will,  for  it 
was  pretty  dirty,  and  probably  she  doesn't  care 
for  it  much,  so  Eunice  and  I  are  going  to  keep 
it,"  poured  out  Cricket  in  a  breath. 

Marjorie  dropped  against  the  newel-post. 

"  Adopt  it  ?  What,  in  the  name  of  common 
sense,  are  you  talking  about,  Cricket  ?  Where 
did  the  atom  come  from  ?  " 

"We  found  her  in  the  street  this  morning," 
explained  Eunice,  "  and  we  couldn't  find  any- 
body that  belonged  to  her,  so  we  had  to  bring 
her  home,  Marjorie.  We  couldn't  leave  her  to 
starve,  could  we  ?  Poor  little  mite !  she  was 
freezing  cold." 


A    PHILANTHROPIC    SCHEME.  97 

Mosina,  quite  aware  that  she  was  under  dis- 
cussion, clung  to  the  dress  of  her  first  friend, 
sucking  her  thumb,  and  staring  from  one  to  the 
other  with  her  solemn  blue  eyes. 

"  But,  my  dear  children,"  began  Marjorie,  in 
a  very  superior,  elder-sisterly  tone,  "  that  is  per- 
fectly absurd/  With  all  the  raft  of  children  wo 
have  now.  we  can't  adopt  a  whole  orphan  asylum. 
Besides,  her  mother  will  be  looking  for  her ; 
probably  she  is  nearly  frantic.  You  must  send 
her  to  the  police  station." 

"  There  !  "  cried  Eunice,  aggrieved,  "  that  old 
police  station  again !  Everybody  says  that.  As 
if  I  would  have  this  cunning  thing,  that  loves  me 
so,  shut  up  in  a  horrid  old  black  cell.  Why, 
she'd  be  as  afraid  as  anything." 

"  They  don't  put  lost  children  in  cells,"  began 
Marjorie,  and  then  stopped,  not  quite  certain 
what  they  did  do  with  them.  "  At  any  rate, 
you  ought  to  take  her  there.  People  always 
do." 

"  I  shan't  do  it,"  said  Eunice,  stoutly. 

"  And,  Marjorie,  she'd  be  frightened  to  death 
among  all  those  big  men,"  expostulated  Cricket. 
"  We  have  just  got  to  keep  her." 

"Then  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  compro- 


98  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

mised  Marjorie.      "I'll  send  Jane  around  to  the 
police  station,  and  tell  them  she's  here,  and  de- 
scribe her,  and  leave  our  address.     If  any  one 
comes,  they  can  send  here." 
Just  then  the  door-bell  rang. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MOSINA. 

IN  a  moment,  Jane  came  up  with  a  telegram 
from  mamma,  saying  that  she  would  stay  in 
Marbury  all  night,  as  it  looked  like  rain,  and 
Kenneth  had  a  slight  cold. 

The  children  looked  at  each  other  in  blank 
dismay.  Mamma's  absence,  for  one  night,  really 
made  no  difference  at  all,  but  they  felt  as  if  the 
bottom  had  dropped  out  of  the  house.  Of  course 
mamma  had  not  known  of  papa's  absence  for  the 
night,  as  he  had  been  telegraphed  for  after  she 
had  left  in  the  morning. 

Conscientious  Marjorie  looked  as  if  the  affairs 
of  the  nation  rested  on  her  shoulders. 

"  Oh,  dear  me  !  "  she  sighed.  "  And  this  baby 
on  my  hands."  And  then  she  explained  to  Jane 
about  the  police  station,  and  what  she  wanted. 

"  Now,  if  the  child  is  to  stay  here  to-night,  we 
must  arrange  about  its  sleeping,"  she  added. 

"  In  Kenneth's  bed,"  piped  up  Zaidie. 


100  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  I'll  see  'Liza  about  it,"  said  Marjorie,  turn- 
ing to  the  nursery.  "Take  her  up-stairs,  Eu- 
nice, do,  and  keep  her  amused  till  dinner." 

"  I'll  tell  you,  Miss  Marjorie,"  said  'Liza  in 
confidence,  "  them  children  have  the  notion  of 
adopting  that  baby.  Of  course  it's  all  nonsense, 
but  you  let  'em  have  her  in  their  room  to-night, 
and  they'll  get  off  the  notion.  Tell  'em  I  can't 
have  the  bother  of  it  here.  'Course  I'll  sleep 
with  one  ear  open,  and  if  they  get  into  trouble, 
I'll  go  up." 

"  Very  well,  'Liza,  I'll  do  that,"  said  Marjorie, 
turning  away. 

Eunice  and  Cricket  proclaimed  themselves 
perfectly  delighted  with  the  arrangement.  It 
was  just  what  they  meant  to  do,  anyway. 

"Of  course,  Marjorie,  if  we  adopt  the  baby, 
we'd  expect  to  take  all  the  care  of  it,  you 
know,"  said  Cricket.  "'Liza  has  enough  to  do 
with  the  younger  ones ;  'course  she'll  sleep  here. 
Eunice,  you  can  have  her  half  the  night,  and  I'll 
take  her  the  other  half." 

"  I  may  forget  to  wake  up,"  objected  Eunice. 
"  Suppose  I  take  her  to-night  into  my  bed, 
Cricket,  and  you  take  her  to-morrow  night. 
There's  the  dinner-bell.  She  can  stay  in  the 


MOSINA.  101 

nursery  with  'Liza  and  the  twins,  and  get  her 
supper,  while  we're  at  dinner." 

"Come,  Mosina,"  said  Cricket.  "Oh,  Mar- 
jorie,  I  forgot  to  tell  you,  we  named  her  Mosina, 
after  Moses." 

"  You  are  the  most  ridiculous  children  about 
names,"  said  Marjorie,  laughing.  "  Come  to 
dinner  now.  After  dinner  let  us  try  that  duet, 
Eunice." 

Marjorie  and  Eunice  were  both  musical,  and 
each  played  exceedingly  well  for  their  respective 
years.  Although  Cricket  loved  music,  she  had 
no  aptitude  for  the  piano,  and  her  lessons  had 
been  discontinued.  Instead,  her  talent  for  her 
pencil  was  being  cultivated.  But  all  the  chil- 
dren were  more  or  less  musical.  Marjorie  and 
Eunice  both  had  very  good  voices,  and,  with 
Donald's  aid,  they  often  practised  trios,  as  well 
as  duets  by  themselves. 

After  dinner,  Marjorie  and  Eunice  played 
duets  for  a  time,  but  Eunice  was  so  impatient 
to  get  back  to  her  adopted  baby,  and  made  so 
many  mistakes,  that  presently  Marjorie,  in  dis- 
gust, sent  her  off.  The  two  younger  girls  im- 
mediately flew  up  to  the  nursery. 

'Liza  was  getting  the  twins  ready  for  bed, 


102  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

and  gave  Eunice  some  night-things  of  Kenneth's 
for  her  charge,  together  with  a  shower  of  in- 
structions for  the  night.  Then  the  children  car- 
ried off  the  baby,  nodding  and  heavy-eyed,  but 
quiet  and  stolid  still. 

With  much  giggling  and  fun,  and  a  feeling  of 
immense  importance,  the  two  girls  finally  had 
Mosina  undressed  and  ready  for  bed.  By  this 
time  she  was  almost  asleep  on  their  hands. 

"  Just  see  this  room ! "  exclaimed  Eunice, 
looking  about  her,  after  the  infant  was  safely 
tucked  away  in  her  cot.  "  Doesn't  it  look  as  if 
a  cyclone  had  struck  it  ?  It's  more  mussed  up 
than  the  nursery  ever  gets  with  all  three  chil- 
dren there." 

"  We'll  put  it  in  order  to-morrow,  for  it's 
Saturday,  and  we'll  have  plenty  of  time,"  said 
Cricket,  gathering  up  the  baby's  things  with  a 
sweep  of  her  arm,  and  putting  them  on  a  chair. 
"  Come  on  down-stairs  again.  Doesn't  it  seem 
grown-up  and  motherly  just  to  turn  down  the  gas 
and  go  down  and  leave  the  baby  asleep  ?  Won't 
mamma  be  surprised  when  she  comes  home  ?  " 

"  We  must  listen  to  see  if  she  cries,"  said 
Eunice,  beginning  to  feel  the  responsibility  of  a 
family. 


MOSINA.  103 

The  children  went  down-stairs  again,  to  the 
back  parlour,  where  Marjorie  was  deep  in  to- 
morrow's trigonometry.  They  each  took  a  book 
and  pretended  to  read,  but  each  found  herself 
starting  up  at  every  sound,  and  asking  each 
other  if  that  was  the  baby's  voice.  A  dozen 
times  Eunice  tiptoed  to  the  front  hall  and  stood 
listening  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  with  a  queer 
feeling  of  the  necessity  of  keeping  very  quiet, 
although  she  certainly  had  never  felt  that  neces- 
sity with  the  twins  or  her  small  brother.  A 
dozen  times  Cricket  started  up,  fancying  she 
heard  a  little  wail  from  above. 

"  Dear  me ! "  sighed  the  latter,  at  last,  "  I 
know  now  what  mamma  means  by  saying  she 
sleeps  with  her  ears  open.  I  have  one.  ear  up- 
stairs, and  the  other  on  my  book,  and  I've  read 
this  page  six  times,  and  I  have  forgotten  to  turn 
over." 

"  It  shows  your  distracted  condition,  if  you 
are  trying  to  read  with  your  ears,"  Marjorie 
stopped  her  studying  to  observe.  "  Don't  bother 
about  that  infant,  girls.  She's  all  right.  Tm 
only  thinking  about  her  poor  mother.  Jane 
said  there  had  been  no  inquiries  at  the  police 
station." 


104  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  Everybody's  been  firing  that  police  station  at 
our  heads  all  day,"  said  Eunice,  "  but  I  couldn't 
bear  to  have  the  poor  little  thing  put  in  a  cell." 

"  But  they  don't  put  lost  children  in  cells, 
goosie,"  said  Marjorie.  "  I  suppose  they  have  a 
woman  to  take  care  of  them.  They  send  to  the 
Central  Office  and  tell  them  they  have  a  lost 
child  there.  Then  anybody  who  has  lost  a  child 
goes  to  the  nearest  station  and  tells  about  it. 
Then  they  send  to  the  Central  and  ask  if  a  lost 
child  has  been  reported  there,  and  then  they  tel- 
egraph back  if  it  has,  and  the  parents  go  and 
find  it,  wherever  it  is.  You  know  I  sent  to  the 
station  to  say  it  is  here." 

"  How  very  simple,"  said  Eunice,  thoughtfully. 
"  I  wish  we  had  known  that  this  morning.  I 
didn't  think  about  the  mother's  part  of  it,  as  I 
do  now.  How  we  would  feel  if  Kenneth  was 
lost  for  even  an  hour." 

"  Come,  Eunice,"  said  Cricket,  shutting  her 
book  with  a  slam.  "  Let's  go  to  bed.  I've  had 
such  an  exciting  day  that  I'm  just  reeking  with 
sleep.  Good  night,  Meg." 

"  Good  night,  and  take  care  of  your  infant." 

The  children  tiptoed  into  their  room,  and 
turned  up  the  gas  a  very  little. 


MOSINA.  105 

"  Do  look  at  that  child,"  said  Eunice,  stopping 
short. 

Certainly  if  Mosina  was  quiet  by  day  she 
plainly  made  up  for  it  at  night.  She  had  twisted, 
and  wiggled,  and  kicked,  till  the  clothes  were 
lying  in  every  direction,  and  she  herself  was 
curled  into  a  little  ball  at  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
with  her  beloved  thumb  tucked  into  her  mouth 
as  far  as  it  would  go. 

"  How  shall  we  get  her  back  again  without 
waking  her  ?  Would  you  dare  lift  her  ?  " 

"  We'll  have  to.  You  can't  sleep  without  any 
clothes  over  you,  can  you  ?  Come  up  here,  you 
rascal,"  and  Cricket  lifted  the  small  round  ball 
gently  in  her  arms  and  laid  her,  right  side  up,  at 
the  other  end  of  the  bed.  Baby  settled  down 
with  a  gurgle. 

After  the  girls  were  in  bed,  and  silence  and 
darkness  had  reigned  for  ten  minutes,  Eunice 
suddenly  remarked : 

"Do  you  know,  Cricket,  I  never  realised 
before  how  small  this  cot  is.  This  midget 
seems  to  take  up  all  the  room.  She  slips  right 
down  into  the  middle." 

"  Sleep  on  the  other  side,"  murmured  Cricket, 
drowsily. 


106  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

"  I  can't  very  well  sleep  on  both  sides  of  her 
at  once ;  I'll  move  her  along  once  more." 

Silence  again,  broken  by  a  sudden  grunt  from 
Eunice. 

"  Ugh !  she's  planted  her  feet  whack  in  my 
stomach.  Cricket,  she  flops  just  like  a  little 
fish.  I  never  know  where  she's  going  to  land 
next;  and  she's  a  regular  windmill  with  her 
arms.  There  she  comes,  whack,  on  my  nose 
again." 

"  Tell  —  her  —  to  —  stop,"  advised  Cricket,  in 
far-away  tones. 

"  Much  good  that  would  do  !  Now,  you  mid- 
get, get  over  on  your  own  side,  and  stay  there  ;  " 
and  Eunice,  having  lost  all  fears  of  awakening 
her  protege*,  placed  her  with  much  firmness 
back  on  the  other  side. 

Poor  Eunice  !  As  the  cot  was  only  three  feet 
wide,  and  as  she  was  entirely  unaccustomed  to 
sleeping  with  any  one,  much  less  a  wriggling, 
squirming  baby,  she  naturally  found  her  present 
experience  rather  a  trying  one.  She  listened 
enviously  to  Cricket's  even  breathing,  which 
showed  that  she  was  safe  in  the  Land  of  Nod ; 
but  when  she  herself  was  almost  there,  a  tiny 
foot  or  hand  was  suddenly  planted  on  her,  or 


MOSINA.  107 

the  soft,  round  little  body  came  rolling  over, 
and  landed  plump  upon  her. 

"  0A,  DEAR  !  "  cried  Eunice  at  last,  in  despair- 
ing capitals,  "how  do  mothers  ever  sleep  at 
night,  if  their  babies  sleep  with  them  ? " 

She  stretched  herself  on  the  outermost  limit 
of  her  cot,  after  pushing  Mosina  well  along  to 
the  other  side.  For  a  time  quiet  reigned,  and 
Eunice's  heavy  eyelids  fell.  She  was  peacefully 
sailing  away  to  dreamland,  when  suddenly  a 
thud  and  a  roar  awakened  them.  Of  course 
Mosina  had  fallen  out  of  bed. 

"  Cricket !  Cricket !  do  get  up  and  light  the 
gas  !  I'm  afraid  to  get  out  for  fear  I'll  step  on 
her.  Do  hurry,  Cricket !  " 

Cricket  tumbled  sleepily  out  of  bed  and 
groped  for  the  matches,  which  hung  in  a  little 
swinging  receiver  on  the  gas-jet.  She  hit  it 
accidentally,  and  every  match  went  flying  to  the 
floor.  Meanwhile  Mosina  steadily  roared.  Eu- 
nice leaned  over  the  edge  and  felt  around  for 
her. 

"  Where  have  every  one  of  those  plaguey 
matches  gone  ? "  demanded  Cricket,  with  em- 
phasis, groping  around  on  her  hands  and  knees, 
and  hitting  every  kind  of  object  save  a  match. 


108  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

Just  at  that  moment  Eliza,  aroused  by  the  up- 
roar, appeared,  carrying  a  candle. 

"  The  baby  fell  out  of  bed,"  explained  Eunice, 
somewhat  unnecessarily,  springing  out  of  bed 
herself  as  the  welcome  light  appeared.  Mosina 
lay  sprawled  on  her  back,  kicking  her  fat  legs, 
and  screaming  lustily. 

" '  Tain't  hurt,  by  the  way  it  cries,"  said 
Eliza,  picking  up  the  baby  with  a  practised 
hand.  "  It's  mad.  There  now  !  'sh  !  hushaby  ! 
Where  was  it  sleeping,  Miss  Eunice  ?  " 

"  Here  in  my  bed.  Cricket,  perhaps  it  would 
be  better  to  take  half  a  night  apiece  instead 
of  every  other  night.  I  want  some  sleep.  She 
thrashes  like  a  whale.  I'm  all  black  and  blue 
where  she  has  punched  me." 

By  this  time  Mosina,  hushed  in  Eliza's  arms, 
had  gradually  ceased  crying  and  was  shutting 
her  sleepy  eyes  again. 

"  Yes,  give  her  to  me,"  said  Cricket,  hopping 
into  bed,  and  holding  out  her  arms.  "  Isn't  she 
soft  and  warm,  though.  She's  just  like  a  little 
hot- water  bag.  I'll  put  you  on  the  side  next  the 
wall,  you  cunning  thing,  so  you  can't  fall  out 
again." 

Eunice  jumped   into   bed    and    drew  up  the 


MOSINA.  109 

blankets  with  a  perfect  groan  of  relief,  and  Eliza 
departed,  leaving  them  in  darkness  and  quiet 
again. 

"  If  she  kicks  very  hard,  Cricket,  I'll  take  her 
back,  after  I've  had  a  little  —  snooze  —  but  — 
I'm  so  —  "  and  Eunice  dropped  off,  even  as  she 
spoke.  Cricket  cuddled  the  baby  in  her  arms, 
where  it  actually  lay  still  for  a  minute  or  two, 
and  Cricket  improved  the  opportunity  to  go  to 
sleep  herself. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

A   BEDFELLOW. 

Two  or  three  hours  passed,  and  the  household 
were  all  asleep ;  Cricket,  in  the  intervals  of  her 
disturbed  dreams,  had  fished  her  little  charge 
up  from  her  feet,  and  extricated  her  from  an 
amazing  tangle  of  sheets  and  blankets.  She  had 
awakened  from  an  oppressive  dream  of  drowning 
to  find  the  baby  sprawling  over  her  chest,  with 
both  legs  around  her  neck.  She  had  patiently 
restored  her  each  time  to  her  own  corner.  At 
last,  thoroughly  tired  out  with  this  unaccustomed 
wakefulness  and  responsibility,  she  fell  into  a 
sleep  much  heavier  than  usual,  regardless  of 
Mosina's  continued  antics. 

At  last  a  strange,  new  sound  slowly  penetrated 
her  consciousness,  and  she  gradually  awakened 
to  the  fact  that  there  had  been  a  queer,  wheez- 
ing noise  close  to  her  ear  for  some  time.  Still 
dazed  with  sleepr,  she  lay  bewildered  for  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  till  it  suddenly  dawned  on  her 


A   BEDFELLOW.  Ill 

that  the  queer  noise  came  from  the  small  atom 
at  her  side.  Mosina  was  wheezing  and  choking 
in  a  way  that  became  more  alarming  every 
moment. 

"  Eunice  !  Eunice !  "  cried  Cricket,  suddenly 
realising  that  something  was  seriously  wrong; 
"  for  goodness  sake,  wake  up !  Something's  the 
matter  with  the  baby !  " 

"  In  a  moment, "  answered  Eunice,  sleepily, 
thinking  that  she  was  being  called  to  breakfast. 

"Eunice,  get  up!  Run  for  'Liza!  Baby's 
dying!" 

"What?"  cried  Eunice,  startled  into  full 
wakefulness.  "Oh,  Cricket!  What  is  it?  What 
awful  noises ! " 

"I  don't  know  what's  the  matter,"  said 
Cricket,  feeling  her  way  to  the  gas  again. 
"Oh,  do  hurry!  Here,  you  light  it,  and  I'll 
go."  And  Cricket  flew  away  barefooted. 

In  a  moment  she  was  back  again,  and  directly 
after  'Liza  appeared,  in  a  trailing  flannel  wrapper 
and  felt  shoes. 

"  Croup ! "  she  had  exclaimed  to  herself,  as 
she  heard  the  wheezing  noises  away  down-stairs. 
"  A  bad  case,  too,"  she  added  to  herself,  as  she 
entered  the  room. 


112  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

Eunice  had  the  gas  lighted,  and  the  two 
shivering,  frightened  little  girls  hung  over  the 
cot,  where  the  baby  lay  fighting  for  breath, 
with  that  dreadful,  whooping  noise  that  mothers 
know  and  dread.  Eliza  came  forward  quickly  : 
although  she  had  not  much  head  for  any  emer- 
gencies out  of  her  own  line,  she  was  a  good 
and  efficient  nurse  where  children's  ordinary  ail- 
ments were  concerned. 

"Put  on  your  dressing-gowns  and  slippers," 
she  ordered  the  children,  she  herself  flying  to 
the  wash-stand,  and  wringing  out  a  towel  in  cold 
water.  "  Run  up-stairs,  Miss  Eunice,  and  wake 
Jane,  and  tell  her  to  go  for  Dr.  Townsend. 
Pass  me  a  flannel  petticoat  out  of  your  drawer, 
Cricket,  please.  I  dasn't  wait  to  go  to  the 
nursery  for  things." 

The  children  flew  on  their  respective  orders, 
and  in  a  twinkling  Eliza  had  a  cold  compress 
on  the  baby's  chest,  well  protected  by  Cricket's 
blue  flannel  petticoat. 

Jane  appeared  a  few  moments  later,  ready 
to  go  for  the  doctor,  and  Marjorie,  aroused  by 
the  voices  and  general  commotion,  came  flying 
up-stairs. 

"  Them  big,  fat  children  always   has    croup 


A    BEDFELLOW.  113 

dretful,"  said  Jane  cheerfully.  "Like  as  not 
she'll  die." 

"  Die  !"  echoed  'Liza,  scowling  at  her.  "  You 
get  along,  Jane  Lackett,  and  bring  that  doctor, 
and  tell  him  Doctor  Ward's  away  ;  and  don't  let 
the  grass  grow  under  your  feet,  neither." 

"  Oh,  'Liza,  will  she  die  ?  "  whispered  Cricket, 
clinging  to  Eliza's  hand. 

"  Oh,  lawks !  I  guess  not,  honey ;  byt  she's 
fair  to  middlin'  sick.  Helen  ain't  nothin'  to  her. 
Never  heard  a  worse  wheezin'.  S'pose  she's  took 
a  fine  cold  this  morning,  runnin'  round  without 
any  hat  on." 

It  was  dreadful  to  the  girls,  who  had  never 
seen  a  bad  attack  of  croup  before,  to  stand  there 
helplessly,  and  watch  the  little  creature  fight- 
ing for  breath,  every  respiration  coming  with  a 
long  whoop  that  seemed  to  tear  the  little  frame 
apart. 

"  Can't  you  do  anything,  'Liza  ?  "  begged  Mar- 
jorie.  "  It's  dreadful  to  see  her  suffer  so. 
Aren't  there  any  medicines  to  give  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Miss  Marjorie ;  there's  syrup  of  squills. 
It's  in  your  ma's  medicine  chest.  No ;  it's  all 
out,  I  know.  I'll  give  her  some  vaseline,  if 
you'll  get  some." 


114  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

"  Make  her  eat  that  stuff  !  "  exclaimed 
Cricket.  "Why,  it  will  choke  her!  Don't 
do  it.  It's  cruel !  " 

But  Eliza,  unheeding,  took  a  spoonful  of  vas- 
eline, and  opening  the  baby's  already  gasping 
mouth  still  further,  put  the  soft,  slippery  mass 
down  the  poor  little  throat. 

Presently  the  doctor  came,  and  to  the  chil- 
dren's amazement,  he  nodded  approvingly  over 
the  vaseline.  Then  he  ordered  them  all  off  to  bed. 

"  Go  and  finish  the  night  in  mamma's  bed, 
you  and  Cricket,"  suggested  Marjorie.  "  'Liza, 
I'll  be  on  the  lookout  for  our  children,  since  my 
room  is  next  to  theirs,  and  you  must  stay  here. 
Is  the  baby  very  sick,  doctor  ?  " 

"  It's  a  pretty  bad  attack,  but  nothing  to 
be  frightened  about,"  said  the  doctor  cheerily. 
"  But  who  in  the  world  is  the  youngster  ? " 

While  Marjorie  explained,  Eunice  and  Cricket 
crept  off  to  mamma's  room,  and  tucked  them- 
selves into  her  wide  bed,  feeling  as  if  they  had 
been  through  a  lifetime's  experience  since  nine 
o'clock  that  night.  How  delightfully  peaceful 
and  care-free  it  seemed  to  settle  down  without 
anyone  to  look  after  but  themselves. 

"  Really,  Cricket,  it  may  sound  funny  to  you," 


A   BEDFELLOW.  115 

said  Eunice,  squeezing  her  sister,  "  but  I  feel  as 
if  I  had  had  babies  in  my  bed  for  years.  It 
actually  seems  funny  not  to  feel  her  squirming 
around." 

"  And  I'm  very  sure,  for  my  part,  that  adopt- 
ing babies  is  not  what  it's  cracked  up  to  be," 
returned  Cricket,  decidedly.  "  Eunice,  don't  let 
us  adopt  her,  even  if  her  mother  doesn't  come 
for  her.  Mamma  can,  if  she  wants  to,  or  papa 
can  find  somebody  else  to.  I  think  we  hav6 
enough  children,  anyway." 

"  She  would  take  a  lot  of  time,"  asserted 
Eunice. 

"  Yes  ;  and  think  of  dressing  her  every  morn- 
ing ! "  added  Cricket. 

"  And  having  her  sleep  with  us,  and  kicking 
us  black  and  blue  every  night ! "  said  Eunice 
feelingly. 

"  Yes,  and  keeping  us  awake.  Wonder  how 
the  poor  little  thing  is." 

"  The  doctor  and  'Liza  will  take  care  of  her. 
Listen,  Cricket!  There's  the  clock  actually 
striking  two  o'clock !  Mercy !  were  we  ever 
awake  so  late  before?" 

"  Never.  I  feel  forty-six  years  older  than  I 
did  last  night,  don't  you,  Eunice  ? " 


116  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

But  a  grunt  was  Eunice's  only  answer,  and 
Cricket  speedily  followed  her  to  the  Land  o' 
Nod. 

The  doctor  and  Eliza  had  a  busy  hour  over 
the  baby,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  it  was 
sleeping  quietly,  and  the  night  was  finished  in 
peace  and  quiet. 

It  was  very  fortunate  that  Eliza  was  the 
most  patient,  long-suffering  nurse  imaginable, 
for  she  accepted  Mosina  as  a  temporary  inmate 
of  the  nursery  the  next  day  as  a  matter  of 
course,  and  looked  after  her  as  carefully  as 
after  the  other  children.  Jane  made  another 
visit  to  the  police  station,  after  breakfast,  but 
only  brought  back  the  information  that  no  lost 
child  had  yet  been  reported. 

Papa  returned  about  luncheon  time,  and  to 
his  great  amazement,  was  presented  to  the  new 
member  of  his  family. 

"  We  thought  at  first  we'd  like  to  adopt  her, 
but  we've  come  to  the  conclusion  we  don't  care 
much  about  it,"  confessed  Eunice  frankly,  at  the 
end  of  her  tale ;  "  at  least,  we  don't  if  she  has  to 
sleep  with  us." 

"  Because,  papa,"  chimed  in  Cricket,  "  you 
see,  she's  the  restlessest,  squirmiest  child  you 


A    BEDFELLOW.  117 

ever  saw.  Oh,  yes;  she  looks  mild  enough 
now,  but  if  you  felt  her  wiggle  just  one  night, 
you'd  believe  it." 

"  You  both  of  you  look  as  if  you  had  been  on 
a  prolonged  spree,"  said  Doctor  Ward,  pinching 
the  rather  pale  cheeks  of  his  two  ex-philanthro- 
pists. "  Never  mind,  I'll  look  out  for  the  baby. 
Somebody  will  be  sure  to  turn  up  for  her." 

And  somebody  did.  About  seven  o'clock 
that  evening,  the  somebody  marched  up  the 
steps  and  rang  the  bell  furiously.  It  was  a 
distracted  little  Dutch  woman,  who  in  broken 
English  demanded  her  baby.  Mosina  was 
brought  down,  but  after  the  first  little  gurgle 
of  pleasure  at  seeing  her  mother,  sucked  her 
thumb  as  placidly  as  ever,  while  her  mother 
hugged  and  kissed  her  rapturously,  pouring 
forth  a  stream  of  mingled  Dutch  and  English. 
It  was  some  time  before  she  was  calm  enough 
to  explain  the  situation. 

She  went  out  to  work  by  the  day,  when  she 
could,  and,  when  she  was  at  work,  would  often 
leave  the  baby  at  her  married  sister's  for  two 
days  at  a  time,  as  the  sister  lived  at  a  distance, 
and  she  would  sometimes  be  too  tired  to  go  for 
her  at  night.  The  day  before,  she  had  taken 


118  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

her  there  as  usual.  However,  the  little  thing 
must  have  slipped  out  and  run  after  her,  and 
the  sister  thought  the  mother  had  taken  her, 
after  all.  She  had  to  go  to  work  at  a  place 
on  the  other  side  of  the  city  for  two  days,  and 
so  had  not  gone  for  the  child  the  night  before, 
thinking,  of  course,  she  was  safe,  as  usual.  She 
was  wild  with  terror  when  she  went  there  and 
found  that  her  sister  thought  she  had  the  child 
with  her.  They  went  immediately  to  a  police 
station,  and  soon  had  the  necessary  information 
of  the  baby's  whereabouts. 

The  little  Dutch  mother  was  overwhelmed 
with  gratitude  at  the  kindness  and  care  her 
baby  had  received.  She  said  that  the  little 
thing  often  had  croup,  and  very  bad  attacks, 
too. 

Mamma,  who  had  returned  from  Marbury 
just  before  dinner,  began  to  talk  quietly  to  the 
excited  little  woman,  and  learned  her  story.  It 
was  very  short  and  very  simple.  They  had 
come  over  to  this  country  two  years  before,  and 
did  well  till  her  husband  was  killed  by  an 
accident  a  few  months  previous.  She  spoke  so 
little  English  that  it  was  hard  for  her  to  get 
work,  and  their  little  savings  slipped  away 


A    BEDFELLOW.  119 

quickly.  Now  she  was  anxious  for  all  the  work 
by  the  day  she  could  get. 

Mrs.  Ward  listened  sympathisingly,  promised 
to  speak  to  her  friends  about  her,  and  gave  her 
a  bundle  of  Kenneth's  clothes  to  take  home, 
besides  the  ones  that  Mosina  was  then  arrayed 
in. 

"  So  you  don't  want  to  go  into  the  orphan 
asylum  business  ? "  said  papa,  pulling  Cricket's 
curls,  when  the  excitement  was  all  over,  and 
Mosina  and  her  mother  had  departed,  laden 
down  with  bundles. 

"  I  think  I  might  like  it,"  said  Cricket,  medi- 
tatively, "  if  only  I  didn't  have  to  sleep  with  the 
orphans." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS. 

CHRISTMAS  time  was  approaching,  and  the 
Wards'  house  was  to  be  full  to  overflowing  of 
young  people  for  a  week  or  two.  Donald  was 
to  have  a  college  friend  of  his  with  him  for 
several  days.  Eunice  and  Cricket  were  to  have 
their  little  Kayuna  friends,  Edith  Craig  and 
Hilda  Mason,  to  visit  them ;  and,  at  the  last 
moment,  Mrs.  Somers  had  written,  begging  that 
Will  and  Archie  might  be  taken  in,  if  pos- 
sible, as  Edna  had  just  come  down  with  scarlet 
fever,  and  they  had  to  go  away.  Five  extra 
people  in  an  already  rather  full  house  made  a 
great  deal  of  planning  and  arranging  necessary, 
but  I  almost  think  that  the  children  enjoyed 
the  bustle  it  all  made  as  much  as  the  expected 
visit. 

Donald  had  an  extra  bed  put  up  in  his  room 
for  his  friend.  Eunice  was  to  share  the  spare 
room  with  Edith  Craig,  and  Hilda  was  to  have 


CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS.  121 

Eunice's  cot,  according  to  the  first  plan;  but 
when  Will  and  Archie  had  to  be  arranged  for, 
inamma  could  think  of  nothing  else  to  do  but  to 
give  them  the  girls'  room,  and  put  up  two  more 
cots  in  the  spare  room — fortunately  a  large  one 
—  so  that  all  four  girls  could  sleep  there.  The 
children  were  ready  to  stand  on  their  heads 
with  delight  at  this  arrangement. 

"So  boarding  -  school-y !"  beamed  Cricket, 
surveying  the  room,  when  the  beds  were  all 
ready.  It  looked,  for  all  the  world,  like  a  hos- 
pital ward.  "0A,  what  fun  we'll  have!  You 
were  such  an  angel,  mamma,  to  arrange  for  us 
all  to  be  together." 

"  I  hope  I  won't  regret  it,"  said  mamma, 
laughing,  but  looking  a  little  dubious. 

"Indeed,  you  won't,"  promised  Eunice. 
"  We'll  be  good,  truly.  Only  it  will  be  such 
fun  to  plan  jokes  on  the  boys;  and  they  can't 
do  much  to  us  when  we  are  all  together,  you 
see." 

"E«member,  I  don't  like  practical  jokes, 
dear,"  said  mamma.  "  They  are  dangerous 
things." 

"  Oh,  we'll  tell  you  all  the  things  we  do," 
promised  Cricket,  "  and  we  truly  won't  do  any- 


122  EUNICE   AND    CKICKET. 

thing  you  think  we'd  better  not.  Please  don't 
say  we  can't  play  any  jokes." 

Christinas  fell  on  Thursday,  and  the  guests 
were  to  arrive  the  next  day.  Christmas  itself 
was  the  gala  day  it  always  is  in  a  house  full  of 
happy  young  people.  It  began,  of  course,  with 
the  usual  excitement  over  the  stockings,  big  and 
little,  that  hung  on  the  back-parlour  mantel. 
Then  there  were  the  presents  that  were  too  big 
to  go  into  stockings  to  be  oh-ed  and  ah-ed  over. 
Then  came  the  church  service  and  the  Christ- 
mas dinner,  and  in  the  evening,  a  little  party  at 
a  neighbouring  house. 

The  girls  from  Kayuna  arrived  Friday  after- 
noon. Doctor  Ward  took  Eunice  and  Cricket  to 
the  station  to  meet  them,  and  in  due  time  four 
broadly  smiling  girls  walked  into  the  house, 
where  the  little  guests  were  warmly  welcomed 
by  mamma  and  Marjorie. 

Edith  Craig  was  a  tall,  fine-looking  girl,  a 
year  older  than  Eunice,  and,  being  the  eldest  of 
five  children,  she  was  very  mature  for  her  years. 
She  was  really  very  companionable  for  Marjorie 
as  well  as  for  Eunice.  Cricket  she  regarded  as 
a  mere  infant,  and  her  motherly  ways  towards 
that  young  lady  were  very  amusing.  All  the 


CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS.  123 

family  were  very  fond  of  Edith,  however;  she 
was  a  bright,  jolly,  sensible  girl,  who  seemed 
equally  happy  whether  she  was  exchanging  con- 
fidences with  Eunice,  or  sitting  with  Mrs.  Ward 
and  chatting  over  her  embroidery,  or  romping 
with  Cricket,  or  giving  Doctor  Ward  intelligent 
attention  when  he  was  talking  of  some  late  medi- 
cal discovery,  or  playing  duets  with  Marjorie,  or 
frolicking  with  the  children  in  the  nursery.  A 
well-bred,  adaptable  girl  is  always  charming. 

Cricket  thought  that  Hilda  had  grown  very 
much  in  the  four  months  since  she  had  seen  her, 
but  her  bronze  curls  were  as  smooth,  and  her 
clothes  as  trim,  and  she  was  as  plump  and 
pretty  as  ever. 

The  little  hostesses  had  planned  enough  for 
the  ten  days'  visit  to  fill  a  month,  as  children 
generally  do;  but  that  was  very  much  better 
than  not  having  enough  to  do.  Saturday,  the 
first  day,  was  a  lovely  beginning,  for  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton  had  planned  one  of  Emily's  pleasant  little 
matine'e  parties.  Ten  children,  including  the 
four  of  the  Ward  party,  were  invited  to  lunch 
with  Emily  and  go  to  the  matine'e  afterwards,  to 
see  "  Robin  Hood."  This  was  an  especially  great 
treat  for  Eunice  and  Cricket,  for  they  were 


124  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

seldom  allowed  to  go  to  the  theatre,  and  their 
little  guests  rarely  had  the  chance.  The  lunch 
was  perfect;  Mrs.  Drayton  and  Emily  were  as 
delightful  as  they  always  were ;  "  Robin  Hood  " 
was  charmingly  given,  and  the  day  was  a  per- 
fect success. 

They  found  when  they  reached  home  that 
Will  and  Archie  had  just  arrived,  and  as  Don- 
ald's friend  had  come  also,  the  whole  party  col- 
lected around  the  dinner  table. 

Doctor  Ward  looked  around  beamingly  on  the 
flock,  as  he  flourished  his  knife  over  the  big 
turkey. 

"  Cricket,  this  is  an  improvement  on  your 
orphan  asylum,  I  think,"  he  said.  "  How  is  it  ? 
Do  you  prefer  the  babies  ?  " 

"  I  really  think,  now  that  I've  had  experi- 
ence," said  Cricket  reflectively,  "  that  I  like 
middle-aged  people,  like  ourselves,  better.  We 
aren't  so  much  trouble,  I'm  sure." 

There  was  a  shout  at  Cricket's  "  middle-aged 
people." 

"  I  mean  people  who  aren't  little  things,  like 
Zaidie  and  Helen,  or  grown  up,  like  mamma," 
explained  Cricket  defensively.  "  Just  scattered 
along,  like  all  of  MS,  I  mean." 


CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS.  125 

The  days  flew  by  on  wings.  Edith  was  suf- 
ficiently companionable  to  Marjorie  for  the 
latter  to  be  included  in  many  of  the  little  do- 
ings that  mamma  planned  for  the  younger  girls. 
Will  and  Archie  sometimes  accompanied  them 
also,  and  sometimes  were  off  on  their  own 
account. 

Archie  was  as  much  of  a  tease  as  ever,  and 
with  the  four  girls  right  under  his  thumb,  so  to 
speak,  he  had  a  most  congenial  employment  in 
tormenting  them.  Indeed,  the  various  tricks 
on  both  sides  formed  a  large  part  of  the  enter- 
tainment. 

The  second  night  of  his  arrival,  Archie  care- 
fully made  apple-pie  beds,  in  which  he  was  an 
adept,  for  the  occupants  of  the  spare  room,  and 
the  girls  soon  found  it  wisest  not  to  go  to  bed 
on  any  night  without  carefully  examining  every- 
thing in  the  room.  One  night  all  the  sheets 
were  thickly  strewn  with  salt,  which,  being  white, 
did  not  show  at  a  casual  glance,  but  was  pain- 
fully apparent  when  they  lay  down.  Again, 
he  cut  up  the  splints  of  a  number  of  whisk 
brooms,  and  the  straws  he  scattered  on  the 
mattress  under  the  sheet.  Did  you  ever  go  to 
bed  under  the  same  circumstances?  It  is  not 


126  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

comfortable.  Another  night,  he  lined  the  pil- 
low-cases with  white  paper,  carefully  basted  on 
the  ticking.  Once,  by  an  ingenious  arrangement 
of  some  nails  tied  together  with  string  and  hung 
outside  the  window  one  windy  night,  a  weird 
sound,  like  a  clanking  chain,  was  made,  and  the 
girls  had  a  lively  hunt  for  the  mysterious  noises 
that  kept  them  all  awake. 

Mamma  watched  the  fun  carefully,  but  let 
them  go  on,  as  long  as  it  was  all  good-natured. 
And  indeed,  the  girls  found  many  a  way  to  re- 
pay their  ingenious  tormentor.  They  sewed  up 
the  sleeves  of  his  night-shirt  securely,  not  only 
of  the  one  he  was  wearing,  but  of  all  he  had 
with  him,  and  Will's  also,  lest  Archie  should 
borrow.  They  filled  his  tooth-powder  bottle 
with  soda,  and  stuffed  the  fingers  of  his  best 
gloves  with  cotton. 

One  night,  when  Archie  had  been  particularly 
bad  all  day,  Cricket  took  her  revenge  by  creep- 
ing stealthily  into  his  room  after  he  was  asleep 
—  having  been  kept  awake  herself,  for  the  pur- 
pose, by  the  united  efforts  of  the  other  three  — 
and  very  cautiously  pasted  postage  stamps  over 
his  eyelids.  Like  most  boys,  when  once  asleep, 
he  rivalled  the  "  Seven  Sleepers,"  and  he  never 


CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS.  127 

stirred  during  the  performance.  Adorned  with 
the  stamps,  he  peacefully  slept  on  all  night,  while 
Cricket  jubilantly  crept  back  to  bed.  By  morn- 
ing, the  stamps  stuck  as  tightly  as  if  they  had 
been  nailed  there. 

When  Archie  awoke,  to  his  horror,  he  could 
not  open  his  eyes.  He  felt  of  them,  but  the 
stamps  stuck  so  close  that  he  could  not  imagine 
what  was  the  matter,  and  called  out  in  alarm  to 
Will.  Will,  of  course,  when  he  once  opened  his 
own  sleepy  eyes,  was  nearly  in  convulsions  of 
laughter  over  the  blue  one-cent  stamp  adorn- 
ment on  Archie,  but,  in  pretended  fright,  advised 
him  not  to  touch  his  eyes  till  he  could  call  his 
uncle.  He  summoned  Doctor  Ward  in  hot  haste. 
Archie,  really  much  disturbed  in  mind  over  this 
strange  disorder,  was  lying  perfectly  still  when 
his  uncle  entered.  The  doctor,  entering  into 
the  joke,  told  him  that  it  was  nothing  serious 
yet,  only  a  strange  growth  that  had  come  during 
the  night  —  perhaps  from  cold  —  and  he  would 
get  his  surgical  instruments  and  remove  it. 
Archie  groaned  at  the  sound,  but  his  uncle  as- 
sured him  that  it  would  not  hurt  him  much, 
if  he  kept  perfectly  quiet  and  did  not  touch  his 
eyes,  while  he  got  his  instruments.  Then  the 


128  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

doctor  stepped  to  the  bath-room,  and  came  l)ack 
with  a  sponge  and  warm  water,  and,  after  much 
preparation,  he  began  swabbing  Archie's  eyes, 
talking  all  the  time,  till  Archie  was  nearly 
frantic. 

"  By  Jupiter,  uncle !  How  long  will  I  have 
to  keep  my  eyes  bandaged  after  this  operation  ? 
What  ails  the  confounded  things,  anyway  ?  They 
feel  all  right,  now,  if  only  I  could  get  them 
open." 

"There!"  said  his  uncle  at  last,  "now  try, 
very  carefully,  if  you  can  open  your  eyes. 
Slowly,  mind." 

Archie  raised  his  eyelids,  and  looked  about 
him. 

"Why,  they're  all  right,"  he  cried  in  great 
surprise.  "  They  don't  hurt  a  bit.  Did  you 
cut  something  off,  uncle  ?  Didn't  it  bleed  ? 
Here,  you  idiot,"  —  to  Will,  who  was  rolling 
on  the  floor  in  convulsions  of  laughter,  — 
"  what's  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"Oh!  oh!"  gasped  Will.  "Did  it  bleed, 
uncle  ?  That's  too  much !  The  dear,  brave  lit- 
tle boy  !  He  never  whimpered." 

Archie,  in  a  state  of  raging  indignation,  flung 
a  pillow  at  him. 


CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS.  129 

"  You  old  lunatic  !  " 

Doctor  Ward  held  up  one  of  the  stamps  by 
a  pair  of  nippers. 

"A  nocturnal  visit  of  a  certain  household 
insect,  usually  harmless,  is  plainly  the  cause 
of  your  trouble,  my  boy,"  he  said,  "but  as  1 
told  you,  I  do  not  consider  it  serious.  Bathe 
your  eyes  in  warm  water.  Also,  I  recommend 
temporary  seclusion,  and  the  cultivation  of  a 
calm  and  forgiving  frame  of  mind." 

Another  pillow  went  whack  at  Will,  as  a 
partial  relief  to  Archie's  helpless  rage.  He 
only  wished  he  dared  throw  one  at  his  uncle, 
as  Doctor  Ward  went  out,  laughing. 

No  remarks  were  made  at  breakfast  time 
relative  to  the  situation.  Archie  gazed  haugh- 
tily past  Cricket,  and  devoted  himself  ostenta- 
tiously to  Hilda,  whom,  usually,  he  rather 
snubbed.  Like  most  people  who  love  to  tease, 
he  could  not  easily  endure  a  joke  on  himself. 
So  he  scorned  Cricket's  overtures  of  peace,  and 
even  meditated  refusing  to  join  the  skating  party 
planned  for  that  day.  The  skating  party,  how- 
ever, had  been  in  prospect  for  several  days,  and 
as  even  Donald  and  his  friend,  Mr.  Herrick,  were 
to  join  it,  Archie  could  not  quite  make  up  his 


130  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

mind  to  this  sacrifice,  even  for  the  sake  or  pun- 
ishing Cricket.  In  this  trait  Zaidie  and  Archie 
were  comically  alike.  Both  usually  took  revenge 
by  making  themselves  thoroughly  uncomfort- 
able. 

"  I  suppose  Archie  will  treat  me  with  an  air 
of  cold  familiarity  all  day,"  said  Cricket,  in 
confidence  to  Will,  as  he  took  her  skates,  and 
Archie  walked  on  ahead  with  Hilda.  Hilda 
was  delighted.  Archie  had  usually  so  little  to 
say  to  her. 

Will  went  off  in  a  shout  of  laughter  at  Crick- 
et's remark.  She  thought  it  was  at  the  memory 
of  the  morning. 

"  I  don't  think  he  ought  to  mind  just  a  little 
joke  like  that,  when  he  just  piles  jokes  on  other 
people,"  went  on  Cricket,  in  an  injured  tone. 
"  Look  at  all  the  things  he's  done  to  us,  and  we 
smile  at  him  just  the  same." 

The  skating  party  was  a  grand  success.  They 
went  out  of  town,  on  the  street  cars  for  several 
miles,  to  the  lake,  which  was  a  glittering  sheet 
of  ice.  The  day  was  clear  and  not  too  cold. 
Everybody  skated  well,  but  Archie  particularly 
excelled.  He  was  up  in  every  kind  of  fancy 
figure,  and  in  the  delight  of  showing  off,  his 


* 
CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS.  131 

wounded  feelings  were  gradually  soothed  —  at 
least  outwardly. 

"  But  I'll  get  even  with  that  little  minx,"  he 
said,  grimly,  to  himself.  "  She's  altogether  too 
fresh,"  forgetting,  as  practical  jokers  generally 
do,  that  he  had  had  the  first  innings. 

They  returned  home  in  time  for  half  past  one 
luncheon,  with  the  appetites  of  anacondas.  No 
one  noticed  that  Archie  whipped  into  the  dining- 
room,  instead  of  going  up-stairs  with  the  others, 
when  they  first  came  in,  chattering,  and  laugh- 
ing, and  glowing  with  exercise.  In  ten  minutes 
time  the  luncheon-bell  rang. 

"  Waffles !  hurrah ! "  cried  Will,  boyishly,  as 
Jane  brought  in  his  favourite  dish. 

"Auntie,  you're  a  brick !  "  chimed  in  Archie. 
"  Miss  Scricket,  don't  you  take  all  this  syrup  on 
yours,  for  I  want  some  myself,  and  there  isn't 
much  in  the  syrup  jug,"  and  Archie  peered  in. 

"You  don't  need  any,  being  so  sweet  your- 
self," returned  Cricket,  pouring  out  a  liberal 
supply  of  the  clear,  delicious-looking  syrup  from 
the  jug  that  stood  by  her  plate. 

The  next  instant  the  family  were  startled  by 
a  most  unmannerly  gulp  from  Cricket,  who 
clapped  her  hands  over  her  mouth  and  bolted 


132  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

from  the  table  without  the  ceremony  of  an 
"  Excuse  me  "  to  mamma.  Everybody  looked 
after  her  in  surprise;  then  mamma,  excusing 
herself,  hastily  followed  her  to  the  butler's 
pantry,  whither  she  had  retired.  The  sickest, 
forlornest-looking  child  imaginable  held  up  a 
white  face. 

"It  was  —  the —  syrup,"  she  managed  to  say 
"It's  sour  or  something.  Oh,  I'm  so  sick  at 
my  stomach ! " 

Not  waiting  to  investigate  the  matter  at  that 
moment,  mamma  called  Sarah,  who  carried  poor 
little  Cricket  up-stairs  in  her  arms.  A  very 
unhappy  hour  followed.  As  soon  as  mamma 
could  be  spared,  she  flew  down-stairs  to  the 
dining-room. 

Archie  stood  by  the  window,  drumming  on  the 
window-pane.  He  turned  around  as  his  aunt 
entered. 

"Yes,  I  did  it,"  he  said.  "It's  castor-oil. 
I  slipped  in  and  emptied  the  syrup  jug  just  be- 
fore luncheon,  and  put  some  castor-oil  in,  out 
of  a  bottle  in  uncle's  office.  It  won't  hurt  her, 
will  it?  I  didn't  think  she'd  get  more  than  a 
taste  of  the  stuff." 

"  It's  nothing  serious,  only  you've  given  poor 


CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS.  133 

little  Cricket  a  pretty  bad  quarter  of  an  hour, 
my  boy.  It  chances  that  oil  of  any  kind,  even 
salad  oil,  makes  her  deathly  sick.  She  never 
eats  salad  or  lettuce,  if  it  is  dressed;  but  of 
course  you  did  not  know  that." 

Archie  looked  uncomfortable. 

"Of  course  I  didn't,  auntie,  or  I  wouldn't 
have  been  such  a  brute." 

"  Surely  not.  It  was  just  the  '  chances  of 
war.'  It  is  always  so  with  practical  joking. 
Each  goes  a  step  farther  than  the  other,  till 
some  one  —  generally  the  weaker  party  —  gets 
the  worst  of  it.  Suppose  you  drop  it  now, 
dear  ?  " 

"  See  here,  auntie,"  said  Archie,  awkwardly, 
"I  —  you  know  —  well,  Cricket  really  owes  me 
one  now.  Let  her  go  on  and  do  me  up,  if  she 
wants  to.  I'd  a  jolly  lot  rather  she  would ; 
and  I  won't  do  another  single  thing  after  that. 
Did  she  bluster  much  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Ward,  smiling.  "Cricket  is 
always  '  game,'  as  you  boys  say,  and  would  not 
let  me  blame  you.  But  let  me  say  one  more 
word,  my  lad.  Since  you  love  to  play  jokes  and 
tease  people,  as  well  as  you  do,  don't  you  think 
you  might  be  a  little  generous,  and  let  them 


134  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

have  the  same  sport  with  you,  without  losing 
your  temper  ?  Turn  about  is  always  fair  play, 
my  boy." 

Archie  looked  slightly  shame-faced  —  a  most 
unusual  state  of  affairs  for  him.  But,  as  Mrs. 
Ward  never  nagged  the  children,  a  few  words 
from  her  always  had  their  due  weight. 

In  a  couple  of  hours,  Cricket  was  ready  to 
join  the  girls,  who  were  clustered  about  the 
cosy  open  fire  in  mamma's  room,  laughing  and 
chattering  over  their  embroidery.  Now  that 
the  violent  nausea,  which  the  least  taste  of  oil 
always  gave  her,  was  over,  Cricket  was  rather 
disposed  to  look  upon  the  whole  thing  as  very 
funny,  after  all.  She  was  really  rather  amazed 
when  the  girls  sympathised  with  her  and  ener- 
getically heaped  abuse  upon  Archie. 

"  It  wasn't  anything,"  she  insisted.  "  I'd 
have  done  it  myself,  if  I'd  have  thought  of  it. 
Of  course  it  isn't  very  pleasant  to  have  your 
stomach  sick  at  itself;  but  he  didn't  know  I 
don't  like  oil.  But,  oh,  mamma,  I've  thought 
of  such  a  nice  little  trick  to  play  on  him  now  ! " 

"It's  time  to  stop,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Ward. 
"  Don't  let's  carry  it  any  further." 

"  Please,  mamma,  it's  such  a  little  joke,  and  it 


CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS.  135 

wouldn't  hurt  him  a  bit ;  and  I  do  think  he  de- 
serves a  good  taking-down,"  pleaded  Cricket. 
"  He'll  crow  over  me,  always,  if  I  don't ;  he'll 
call  me  « 'fraid  cat,'  and  I'm  not  a  '  'f raid  cat ; ' 
I'll  leave  it  to  anybody." 

"  Let's  hear  the  joke,"  said  mamma  judicially, 
remembering  Archie's  own  words ;  and  Cricket 
unfolded  her  little  scheme. 

"  I  thought  of  that  when  I  was  sickest,"  she 
finished  triumphantly.  And  mamma  said  she 
might  do  it. 

That  evening  the  boys  had  planned  to  go  and 
make  a  formal  call  on  May  Chester.  Formal 
calls  were  rather  a  new  experience  for  both  of 
them,  and  each  felt  as  important  as  a  little  dog 
with  a  new  collar.  They  went  up-stairs,  to  get 
ready,  directly  after  dinner,  and  were  gone  an 
unconscionably  long  time. 

"  I  know  those-  boys  will  try  to  sneak  down- 
stairs, and  get  out  without  being  seen,"  said 
Eunice,  getting  impatient  for  their  appearance. 

"  They  can't  do  it.  I'm  on  the  lookout  with 
my  little  eye,"  chirped  Cricket,  from  the  porti- 
eres. "  Isn't  it  funny  how  ashamed  boys  always 
are  of  being  dressed  up !  'Sh  !  there  they  come 
now.  Edith,  you  know  you're  to  go  out  and 


136  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

ask  them  to  come  in  a  moment.  They  won't 
suspect  you." 

"  Slip  out  in  the  hall  as  if  you  were  looking 
for  something,  and  meet  them  by  accident," 
advised  Eunice. 

Edith  obediently  sauntered  out  into  the  hall, 
and  met  the  boys  as  directed.  After  a  moment's 
conversation,  she  succeeded  in  coaxing  them 
into  the  parlour,  for  approval  from  the  family. 
Archie  came  in  with  a  lofty  expression,  as  if 
making  formal  calls  on  young  ladies,  with  pale 
yellow  kid  gloves  on,  was  an  everynight  affair. 
Will  looked  somewhat  conscious. 

"  Is  that  your  new  suit,  Archie  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Ward.  "  How  well  it  fits  !  " 

"  Seems  to  me,"  said  Cricket,  screwing  up  her 
face  critically,  "  it  sort  of  wrinkles  across  the 
shoulders,"  patting  his  back  patronisingly. 

Archie  wheeled  around  to  a  mirror  hastily. 

"  Wrinkles,  Miss  Scricket !  You  ought  to  be 
wrinkled  yourself!  It  fits  like  a — a  house- 
afire,"  he  said  indignantly,  nearly  twisting  his 
neck  off. 

"  And  we  all  know  how  perfectly  a  house- 
afire  fits,"  observed  Marjorie. 

Cricket  continued  patting  Archie's  back,  and 


CHRISTMAS    HOLIDAYS.  137 

smoothing  out  imaginary  wrinkles.  By  the  time 
he  had  reached  the  doorway  she  had  succeeded 
in  what  she  was  trying  to  do,  for  as  he  went 
out,  after  waving  a  light  yellow  hand  patronis- 
iugly  to  the  girls,  there  was  pinned  across  his 
back  a  broad  slip  of  paper  with  good-sized 
printed  letters  on  it : 

"I'm  such  a  little  boy;  please  to  send  me 
home  early." 

"  There  ! "  remarked  Cricket  with  much  satis- 
faction, as  the  front  door  shut,  "  I  think  Archie 
will  be  pleased  to  have  May  Chester  see  that.  I 
winked  at  Will  — he  won't  tell;  and  he  helped 
him  on  with  his  overcoat  very  carefully.  I 
peeked  to  see." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  his  face  when  he  finds  it  out," 
said  Hilda. 

"  Oh,  wouldn't  1 ! "  cried  Cricket  fervently. 
"•  And,  mamma,  Archie  can  do  anything  he  likes 
to  me  now  —  I  won't  pay  him  off  again.  I'll 
tell  him  so." 

Half  an  hour  later,  Donald  came  in. 

"  Here's  something  I  picked  up  on  the  door- 
step," he  said.  "  Probably  a  circular  or  some- 
thing thrown  down.  Why,  what's  this  ?  " 

He  held  it  up.     A  burst  of  laughter  from  the 


138  EUNICE    AND    CKICKET. 

girls  greeted  it.  It  was  that  identical  paper, 
which  had  probably  been  rubbed  off  by  the  over- 
coat, and  had  worked  down. 

Cricket  looked  perfectly  blank  for  a  moment, 
and  then  joined  in  the  laughter. 

"  If  Archie  only  knew  it,"  she  cried, 
"  wouldn't  he  crow  !  Joke's  on  me  now,  for 


sure 


t  " 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    BOY. 

MBS.  WARD  came  to  the  luncheon  table  the 
next  day,  holding  up  three  pink  tickets. 

"A  treat  for  the  musical  ones,"  she  said, 
gaily.  "  Mrs.  Chester  has  just  sent  around  these 
tickets  for  the  matinee  performance  of  that  lit- 
tle musical  wonder,  this  afternoon.  For  some 
reason  they  are  unable  to  use  them." 

"  Hurrah ! "  said  Marjorie,  clapping  her  hands 
in  true  Cricket  fashion,  "  I've  been  dying  to 
hear  him.  Oh,  Edith,  people  say  he's  the 
greatest  dear!" 

"  I  thought  you  and  Edith  and  Eunice  could 
go,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Ward.  "You  will" enjoy  it 
better  than  the  younger  ones." 

"  But  don't  you  want  to  go  yourself,  mam- 
ma ?"  asked  Eunice,  quickly. 

"  No ;  for  you  know  papa  and  I  heard  him, 
two  weeks  ago,  when  we  were  in  New  York. 
He  certainly  is  a  wonder,  Edith.  I  don't  care 


140  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

much  about  prodigies,  as  a  rule,  but  his  playing 
is  very  wonderful.  New  York  was  wild  over 
him." 

"I've  wanted  to  hear  him  so  much,"  said 
Edith,  enthusiastically.  "  It's  perfectly  lovely  !  " 

"  Then  I'll  take  you  two  down-town  with 
me,"  said  Mrs.  Ward  to  Cricket  and  Hilda. 
"  Will  it  be  too  cold  for  ice-cream  ?  " 

The  three  matine'e  girls  got  off  in  good  time. 
As  they  entered  the  lobby,  they  encountered 
Mrs.  Drayton. 

"I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,  girls,"  she  said,  in 
her  cordial  way.  "  I  came  early,  and  have  been 
waiting  here  in  hope  of  seeing  some  of  you.  I 
am  going  to  the  dressing-room,  to  see  the  little 
pianist,  during  the  intermission,  and  I  thought  if 
I  could  find  any  of  you,  you  would  like  to  go 
too." 

The  girls  fairly  gasped.  To  go  behind  the 
scenes  into  that  wonderful,  mystical  dressing- 
room,  and  actually  see  and  touch  a  real,  live 
individual  that  came  out  on  the  stage  and 
played !  Could  it  be  true  ? 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Drayton!"  they  all  cried,  breath- 


"  I  have  seen  him  several  times,"  Mrs.  Dray- 


THE    BOY.  141 

ton  went  on.  "  The  little  fellow,  with  his  father 
and  some  others,  lunched  with  us  yesterday. 
He  is  a  perfect  little  dear.  Just  as  childlike 
and  sweet  as  if  he  never  had  been  before  the 
public  at  all." 

Mrs.  Drayton's  husband,  though  a  prominent 
lawyer,  was  a  fine  amateur  violinist,  and  he 
kept  closely  in  touch  with  all  musical  matters. 
His  house  was  always  a  centre  for  amateur 
musicians,  and  he  often  entertained  professionals. 

"  How  lovely  of  you,  Mrs.  Drayton ! "  ex- 
claimed Marjorie,  enthusiastically.  "  It  will  be 
just  delightful  to  see  that  cunning  thing  off  the 


This  bit  of  thoughtfulness  was  just  like  Mrs. 
Drayton. 

"  I  have  a  little  box  of  toys  for  him,"  she 
went  on,  showing  the  corner  of  a  white  paper 
parcel  under  her  long  cloak.  "We  will  take 
them  in  to  him  during  the  intermission.  Where 
are  your  seats,  Marjorie  ?  Let  me  see  your 
tickets.  Oh,  yes.  Fortunately,  they  are  near 
mine.  You  can  get  up  and  come  out  into  the 
aisle  when  I  do." 

In  due  course  of  the  programme,  the  marvellous 
ten-year-old  came  forward  to  take  his  place  at 


142  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

the  piano,  looking  ludicrously  tiny  among  the 
big  German  musicians.  The  grand  piano  seemed 
to  swallow  him  up  as  he  stood  by  it  for  a 
moment,  bowing  in  a  grave,  self-possessed,  yet 
childlike  manner,  in  response  to  the  applause 
that  greeted  him.  He  had  a  sweet,  serene 
little  face,  with  dark  brown  hair  falling  over 
his  forehead.  His  broad  lace  collar  made  him 
look  still  younger  than  he  really  was. 

He  turned,  after  his  bow,  and  climbed  upon 
the  piano-stool,  settling  himself  with  his  small 
hands  folded  in  his  lap.  Then  he  awaited  the 
signal  to  begin,  as  composedly  as  if  no  large 
audience  listened  breathlessly  for  his  first  notes. 

When  the  number  was  finished,  he  turned 
sidewise  on  the  stool,  and  bowed  to  the  audi- 
ence, with  his  little  feet  swinging.  At  the 
renewed  applause,  he  slipped  down,  bowing  with 
a  funny,  quaint  little  gesture  of  his  hands,  and 
then  turned  and  climbed  to  his  perch  again. 
Some  one  had  started  to  lift  him  up,  but  he  had 
put  him  aside  with  a  dignified  little  motion. 
After  the  third  number,  his  last  in  the  first 
part,  he  slipped  down  again,  made  a  hasty  little 
bow,  and  scampered  away  like  a  flash,  amid 
mingled  laughter  and  applause. 


THE    BOY.  143 

At  last  came  the  intermission.  Mrs.  Drayton, 
followed  by  the  girls,  made  her  way  to  the 
dressing-room.  She  was  well-known  to  the 
attendants,  so  she  had  no  difficulty. 

The  Boy,  the  marvellous  little  musician,  sat 
on  the  floor  playing  with  a  little  train  of  cars 
that  went  choo-choo-ing  over  the  carpet,  pro- 
pelled by  steam  made  from  real  water  in  the 
tiny  boiler. 

"  Look  out  for  my  cars  there,"  he  exclaimed, 
with  a  funny,  foreign  accent,  as  his  visitors 
entered,  not  even  glancing  up  at  them  in  his 
absorbed  interest.  The  lad's  father  stood  by 
the  door. 

"Get  up,  my  son,  and  greet  these  gracious 
ladies,"  said  the  father,  in  German,  as  he 
turned  and  spoke  to  Mrs.  Drayton,  himself. 
The  Boy  got  up  lingeringly,  with  a  most  bored 
expression,  but  his  face  changed  and  brightened 
as  he  recognised  his  kind  friend,  with  whom  he 
felt  quite  well  acquainted.  He  sprang  forward 
quickly,  and,  throwing  his  arms  about  her  neck, 
he  kissed  her  repeatedly  in  his  pretty,  foreign 
fashion.  The  girls  looked  on,  amazed  enough 
that  he  proved  to  be  just  an  ordinary,  every-day 
little  boy. 


144  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  I  thought  we'd  find  him  reading  Beethoven's 
life,  or,  at  least,  studying  the  score,"  whispered 
Marjorie  to  Edith.  "  Just  imagine  that  genius 
sitting  down  on  the  floor  and  playing  cars  !  " 

"  I've  brought  these  young  ladies  to  see  you," 
said  Mrs.  Drayton,  putting  the  little  fellow 
down.  "  Will  you  kiss  them,  dear  ?  " 

Marjorie  and  Edith  and  Eunice,  all  awe-struck 
at  the  idea  of  kissing  a  genius,  bent  down  to  the 
dear  little  boy,  who  dutifully  kissed  each  one  of 
them,  first  upon  one  cheek  and  then  upon  the 
other,  in  foreign  fashion,  as  if  it  were  a  per- 
formance he  was  very  used  to. 

"  What  have  you  brought  me  ?  "  he  demanded, 
in  German,  of  Mrs.  Drayton,  standing  before  her 
in  boy  fashion,  with  his  small  feet  somewhat 
apart,  and  his  hands  deep  in  his  pocket. 

"  We  all  spoil  him  by  always  bringing  him 
something,  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Drayton  to  the 
girls,  laughing  at  his  tone,  as  she  laid  the  box 
she  had  brought  in  his  hands.  He  eagerly  tore 
off  the  paper  and  the  cover.  The  box  contained 
a  curious  mechanical  toy,  which  the  Boy  seized 
with  delight.  He  immediately  sat  down  on  the 
floor  to  examine  it. 

Just  at  this  moment,  the  strains  of  the  violins 


THE    BOY.  145 

sounded  again,  and  the  call-boy  came  to  say 
that  he  must  go  in  a  moment. 

The  Boy  uttered  an  impatient  exclamation 
that  was  equal  to  "  Oh,  bother ! "  in  English, 
but  he  paid  no  other  attention  to  his  summons. 
His  father  was  talking  to  Mrs.  Drayton,  and 
did  not  hear  the  call-boy  enter  or  leave. 

In  a  moment,  the  call-boy  came  again. 

"  Can't  they  wait  a  minute  ? "  the  Boy  de- 
manded impatiently,  in  English,  which  he  spoke 
very  well.  "  I  must  get  this  together.  It's 
almost  done." 

The  applause  of  the  audience  came  to  their 
ears.  The  call-boy  repeated  the  summons  in 
great  impatience,  knowing  that  he  would  be 
scolded  for  presumably  not  having  given  long 
enough  notice. 

u  Very  well,"  said  the  Boy,  getting  up  reluc- 
tantly. "Please  go  not  till  I  return,  gracious 
ladies.  I  will  play  fast.  I  do  so  much  wish  to 
see  this  strange  thing  together,"  and  off  the 
child  scampered,  leaving  the  three  girls  staring 
in  amazement  at  the  remarkable  manners  of  a 
prodigy. 

"  He's  a  real  little  boy,"  said  Edith,  drawing 
a  long  breath  of  surprise.  "  To  see  him  playing 


146  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

with  these  toys,  and  then  imagine  what  he  can 
do  with  those  wonderful  little  fingers  of  his! 
Listen  !  "  as  the  wonderful  strains  floated  in. 

"Isn't  he  a  darling?"  exclaimed  Marjorie 
enthusiastically.  "  He  isn't  spoiled  a  bit ! " 

The  boy's  father  had  left  the  room,  and  Mrs. 
Drayton  joined  the  girls. 

"  He  is  very  carefully  managed  and  trained," 
she  said.  "  He  is  allowed  to  see  very  few  peo- 
ple, on  the  whole,  and  as  he  has  played  before 
an  audience  ever  since  he  was  five  years  old,  it 
is  nothing  to  him.  They  want  to  keep  him 
simple  and  unspoiled." 

If  the  girls  had  been  in  their  seats,  they  would 
have  been  amused  to  see  the  Boy  come  half  run- 
ning on  the  stage.  He  made  a  funny  little  side- 
wise  bow,  and  climbed  upon  the  piano  stool. 
He  had  already  kept  the  audience  waiting  a  full 
minute,  but  he  placidly  took  up  a  programme  that 
lay  on  the  piano,  ran  down  it  with  his  finger, 
found  the  place,  creased  the  paper  across,  laid 
it  down,  and  instantly  was  the  inspired  little 
musician  again.  It  •  was  a  magnificent  con- 
certed piece,  and  the  programme  announced  that 
the  child  had  seen  it,  for  the  first  time,  the  day 
before,  but  his  tiny  fingers  interpreted  the  large, 


THE    BOY.  147 

grave  measures  in  a  way  that  held  the  great 
audience  breathless.  In  a  long,  elaborate  bit, 
that  belonged  to  the  first  violin,  he  would  sound- 
lessly follow  the  notes  with  the  fingers  of  one 
hand,  as  if  in  pure  enjoyment  of  the  swift 
motion. 

The  selection  came  to  an  end  at  last,  with  a 
grand  succession  of  chords.  The  instant  the  last 
notes  had  died  away,  the  child  slipped  down,  and 
ran  away  without  his  bow,  befpre  any  one  could 
stop  him.  He  darted  into  the  dressing-room. 

"Are  you  here  yet,  gracious  ladies  ?  "  he  said, 
breathlessly.  "  I'm  so  glad !  Now  I  want  to 
get  this  together ;  I  don't  play  next  time.  Do 
you  hear  the  clapping  ?  They  want  me  to  come 
back  and  play  again,  but  I  shan't  till  it's  time. 
See  !  this  is  the  way  it  goes ! " 

Just  then,  amid  the  prolonged  applause  of  the 
audience,  some  one  came  to  lead  him  back  to 
make  his  acknowledgments,  and  play  again. 

"  I  don't  want  to,  now,  and  I  shan't"  he  said, 
positively.  "  It  isn't  my  turn.  Let  the  next  one 
play." 

Another  messenger  arrived,  here,  with  orders 
for  him  to  come  at  once,  as  the  applause  renewed 
itself,  growing  still  more  insistent. 


148  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  I'm  busy,"  the  Boy  said,  sitting  still.  Just 
then  his  father  came  in,  and  bade  him  go  at 
once.  Reluctantly  he  put  down  his  plaything, 
and  went  off  to  the  stage.  He  made  his  way 
down  the  centre,  between  the  musicians,  bowing 
this  way  and  that,  and  making  his  funny  little 
foreign  gestures  with  his  hands.  The  applause 
redoubled  at  the  sight  of  him,  and  a  shower  of 
flowers  fell  about  him.  He  picked  up  a  big  bou- 
quet of  roses,  that  fell  at  his  feet,  and  then  say- 
ing perfectly  distinctly  to  the  first  violin : 

"  There !  that's  all  I'm  going  to  do,"  he 
marched  off  again.  Everybody  laughed  and 
applauded,  although,  of  course,  only  the  nearest 
musicians  heard  what  he  said.  The  conductor 
gave  the  signal  for  the  next  number,  and  the 
performance  went  on.  By  this  time,  Mrs.  Dray- 
ton  had  taken  the  girls  back  to  their  seats. 

After  the  last  regular  number  of  the  pro- 
gramme, some  musician  was  invited  to  come 
from  the  audience  and  give  the  Boy  a  simple 
theme  for  him  to  improvise  upon.  At  this 
request,  a  well-known  amateur  musician,  an  old 
resident  of  the  city,  came  forward,  and  went 
upon  the  stage.  He  was  a  tall,  peculiar-looking 
man,  with  long  hair  lying  on  his  shoulders.  He 


THE    BOY.  149 

sat  down  on  the  piano-stool  with  an  odd  little 
mannerism,  which  he  always  had  while  playing, 
bending  his  head  forward  in  a  funny,  rather 
affected  way.  For  a  theme,  he  played  "  Home, 
Sweet  Home,"  very  slowly.  The  Boy  listened, 
with  his  head  on  one  side,  in  his  little,  bird-like 
manner.  When  Professor  Sands  had  played 
the  air  through  once,  he  repeated  it  more  rap- 
idly. As  he  began,  the  boy  put  out  his  hand 
impatiently  to  stop  him,  but  the  professor  played 
on.  Whereupon,  the  Boy  gave  the  pedal  a  petu- 
lant little  kick,  as  if  to  say : 

"  What  in  the  world  is  he  playing  that  easy 
thing  over  again  for  ?  How  many  times  does 
he  think  I  need  to  hear  a  theme?" 

But  the  professor  finished  it,  and  then 
resigned  his  seat  to  the  child.  As  soon  as 
he  was  seated,  he  placed  his  fingers  stiffly 
on  the  keys,  with  his  head  bent  forward,  in  an 
irresistibly  funny  imitation  of  the  professor's 
manner,  and  played  the  theme  through  just  as 
slowly  as  he  had ;  then  he  straightened  up, 
and  darted  through  it  again  at  lightning  speed. 
Next  he  wove  it  into  the  most  elaborate  impro- 
visations, recurring  constantly  to  the  theme. 
Whenever  he  played,  even  a  dozen  notes  of  it, 


150  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

he  instantly  dropped  into  Professor  Sands's 
mannerism.  The  audience  were  soon  in  con- 
vulsions of  laughter,  and  even  the  professor 
himself,  recognising  the  joke,  laughed  till  the 
tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks.  Not  a  muscle 
of  the  Boy's  face  moved.  At  last  he  flashed 
into  "  Yankee  Doodle,"  slipped  again  to  "  Home, 
Sweet  Home,"  playing  it  so  swiftly  that  it  was 
only  a  ripple  of  melody,  dropped,  then,  into  his 
imitation  of  Professor  Sands  again,  and  finished 
with  a  series  of  chords  so  rich  and  full  that  it 
seemed  scarcely  possible  those  tiny  fingers  could 
evoke  them. 

Between  laughter  and  applause  the  audience 
made  the  roof  ring.  The  Boy  stood,  still  grave 
and  demure  as  always,  with  his  folded  hands 
hanging  in  front  of  him,  but  those  nearest  caught 
the  wicked  little  twinkle  in  the  dark  eyes.  Of 
course,  the  three  girls  clapped  their  gloves  into 
rags. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  perfectly  fascinat- 
ing darling?"  sighed  Marjorie,  in  pure  delight, 
as  the  child  was  finally  allowed  to  leave  the 
stage. 

"  Marjorie,  do  you  feel  that  you  can  ever 
touch  the  piano  again,  when  you  think  of  that 


THE    BOY.  151 

little  mouse  sitting  up  there  and  playing  like 
that,  without  half  trying  ? "  said  Edith  mourn- 
fully. "  It's  just  —  just  presumptuous  to  try !  " 
This  was  said  as  they  were  coming  down  the 
steps,  on  the  way  out. 

"  Indeed,  that  is  never  the  way  to  feel  after 
listening  to  a  genius,"  said  Mrs.  Drayton,  cheer- 
ily. "  Certainly  you  cannot  expect  to  rival 
playing  like  that,  but  it  should  be  an  inspiration 
to  you,  to  lift  you  up,  and  make  you  do  your 
very  best  yourself." 

"  But  one's  very  bestest  is  poor  and  weak  after 
that,"  said  Marjorie,  earnestly.  "  I'm  simply 
ashamed  to  look  at  a  piano." 

«  Do  not  feel  that.  Do  your  best  faithfully, 
and  be  patient  with  yourself.  One  need  never 
be  ashamed  of  one's  best.  Fortunately,  it's  no 
disgrace  not  to  be  a  genius,  which  is  a  great  con- 
solation for  all  of  us  commonplace  people.  You 
need  only  be  ashamed  of  a  low  standard.  Aim 
high,  and  keep  your  eyes  fixed  on  your  goal,  my 
girls.  That's  the  secret  of  success." 


CHAPTER  XL 

A    VISIT    TO    MOSINA. 

"  MAMMA,  may  1  take  Hilda  to  see  Mosina  this 
morning  ?  "  asked  Cricket,  the  next  day  at  break- 
fast. "  The  girls  are  going  to  the  Museum,  and 
we  don't  want  to  go  very  much,  and  I  do  want 
Hilda  to  see  our  cunning  Mosina." 

"Oh,  I'm  rather  afraid,  dear,"  hesitated 
mamma.  "  You've  never  been  there  alone, 
you  know.  I'm  not  quite  sure  that  it's  per- 
fectly safe  for  you  to  go  by  yourselves.  Is  it, 
papa?" 

«  Down  in Street  ?  Why  —  yes  —  I  think 

so.  Are  you  sure  you  know  the  way,  Cricket  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  sure,  papa.  What  harm  could 
come  to  us  ?  Do  let  us !  1  know  Mosina  is 
just  wild  to  see  us.  Oh,  Hilda,  she  is  the  cutest 
thing  !  She's  just  like  a  little  roll  of  butter, 
with  blue  buttons  for  eyes ;  they're  so  round." 

"  Hilda,  if  you  ever  feel  any  inclination  to 


A    VISIT    TO    MOSINA.  153 

adopt  a  little  sister  —  "  began  Doctor  Ward,  with 
twinkling  eyes,  but  Cricket  went  straight  on : 

"  She's  the  fattest  thing  you  ever  saw.  She's 
all  creases.  She  looks  just  as  if  she  had  strings 
tied  around  her  legs  and  arms  —  regular  cordu- 
roy arms." 

"  I'd  love  to  see  her.  Do  let  us  go,  Mrs. 
Ward.  We'll  be  very  careful  and  not  get  lost." 

"  I  think  I  will  let  you.  Keep  your  wits 
about  you,  Cricket,  and  don't  go  wandering  off 
anywhere.  And  I'll  send  a  little  bundle  of 
things  down  to  Mosina's  mother.  By  the  way, 
tell  her  to  come  up  on  Saturday,  and  I'll  have  a 
big  bundle  ready  for  her.  You  can  carry  a  few 
cookies  down  in  a  little  box,  couldn't  you,  Hilda, 
if  Cricket  carries  the  parcel  ?  " 

The  children  set  off  on  their  expedition,  in 
great  glee,  about  ten  o'clock.  To  be  sure, 
Cricket  had  never  been  there  alone  before,  but 
the  way  was  very  direct  and  simple,  and  the 
neighbourhood  where  Mosina's  mother  lived, 
though  poor,  was  perfectly  respectable.  Mrs. 
Ward  had  fulfilled  her  promise  to  little  Mrs. 
Brummagen  —  had  given  her  work,  and  told  her 
friends  about  her,  and  moreover,  had  been  to  see 
her,  herself,  several  times.  The  children  still 


154  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

called  the  baby  "  Mosina,"  and  the  child  had 
already  learned  to  use  the  name  herself.  As 
the  children  walked  along,  Cricket  rehearsed, 
for  the  third  or  fourth  time,  the  story  of  the 
finding  and  the  temporary  adoption  of  Mosina. 

"She's  awfully  cunning,  but  I'm  glad  we 
didn't  adopt  her,"  concluded  Cricket.  "  She 
would  have  been  a  lot  of  work.  Children  al- 
ways are,  I  guess.  I've  thought,  ever  since  that 
night,  that  I  wonder  how  mothers  stand  it." 

"  Oh,  mothers  are  made  so  !  "  said  Hilda,  com- 
fortably. 

"  I  wonder  if  that  makes  it  really  any  easier 
for  them,"  meditated  Cricket,  thoughtfully 
"Mamma  says  that  I  had  colic  just  steadily 
till  I  was  about  six  months  old,  and  cried  all 
the  time,  and  would  scarcely  stay  with  the  nurse 
at  all.  Mamma  was  up  with  me  most  -every 
night.  Think  of  it !  And  one  night  just  used 
me  up." 

"  Mothers  don 't  mind,"  repeated  Hilda. 
"•  Mamma  just  loves  to  do  things  for  me,  so  J 
always  let  her,"  she  added,  superbly. 

Cricket  knit  her  brows  a  little,  but  as  they 
were  already  at  Mosina's  home,  she  put  the 
question  away,  to  think  over  at  her  leisure. 


A    VISIT    TO    MOSINA.  155 

Mosina  and  her  mother  were  delighted  to 
see  their  visitors.  Mrs.  Brummagen  was  hard 
at  work,  washing,  and  Mosina  was  tied  to  the 
door-knob  by  a  string.  This,  at  first  sight,  did 
not  seem  a  necessary  precaution,  for  she  was 
sitting  perfectly  still,  upon  the  floor,  staring  into 
space,  when  the  girls  entered.  This  one  little 
room  was  the  whole  of  Mrs.  Brummagen's  resi- 
dence. Here  she  slept  and  washed  clothes  and 
did  her  bit  of  cooking,  but  it  was  all  clean  and 
tidy  as  Dutch  neatness  could  make  it.  The 
girls  delivered  the  box  of  cookies  and  the  other 
things,  and  gave  Mrs.  Ward's  message. 

Hilda  stared  about  her.  She  had  never,  be- 
fore, been  in  the  home  of  the  very  poor. 

"  Why,  that's  a  bed !  Does  she  sleep  in  the 
kitchen?"  she  whispered  to  Cricket,  as  Mrs. 
Brummagen  went  back  to  her  washing,  and 
Cricket  lifted  Mosina  in  her  arms. 

"This  isn't  the  kitchen;  it's  all  she  has," 
responded  Cricket,  in  an  equally  low  voice. 
"  Lots  of  people  have  only  one  room." 

"Do  they  like  it?  Don't  they  want  more 
room  ? "  said  Hilda,  amazed ;  for  she  always 
found  it  difficult  to  realise  that  people  occasion- 
ally did  things  that  they  did  not  like  to  do. 


156  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

Her  own  experience,  in  that  way,  was  very 
limited. 

"  They  have  to  do  it,  goosie,"  said  Cricket, 
who  had  often  been  with  her  mother  to  see  her 
poor  people.  "  I  like  to  come  here.  Isn't  it 
story-booky  ?  See  this  cunning  thing  ?  Isn't 
she  clean  ?" 

"  She  is  awfully  fat.     Can  she  talk  ? " 

"  Just  jabbers ;  you  can't  understand  her. 
Say  '  How  do  you  do  ? '  baby." 

Mosina  was  a  fine  plaything,  for  she  was 
exactly  like  a  big  wax  doll.  The  children  could 
do  anything  they  pleased  with  her. 

"  You  wouldn't  think  this  child  could  be  such 
a  torment  at  night,"  said  Cricket,  feelingly. 
"  In  the  daytime  she  is  just  like  a  lump  of 
dough.  She  stays  just  where  you  put  her. 
But  at  night  —  oh,  goodness  !  she  was  just  as  if 
she  had  yeast  in  her.  I  was  black  and  blue  for 
a  week  after  she  slept  with  me  that  night.  Oh, 
weren't  you  bad ! "  addressing  Mosina,  with  up- 
lifted finger. 

Just  then  a  sharp  knock  came  at  the  door, 
and  Mrs.  Brummagen,  drying  her  hands  on  her 
apron,  hurried  to  open  it.  A  messenger  stood 
there,  saying  that  she  was  wanted  immediately 


A    VISIT    TO    MOSINA.  157 

for  a  little  extra  work  at  the  house  of  one  of 
her  regular  employers.  Some  servant  had  un- 
expectedly left,  and  company  was  expected,  and 
Mrs.  Brummagen  was  requested  to  come  back 
with  the  messenger  for  a  few  hours'  work. 

"Ach,  himmel!"  cried  little  Mrs.  Brum- 
magen, uncertainly.  "  What  1  do  ?  Mine  vash 
in  ze  wassa  iss,  und  mine  leetle  babby  alone  vill 
be.  I  cannot." 

"  But  you  must"  said  the  boy,  impatiently. 
"  She  tole  me  not  to  come  back  widout  yer. 
Leave  de  kid  wid  de  naybors.  Yer'll  be  back 
at  four  o'clock,  she  said." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Brummagen,"  said  Cricket,  eagerly, 
"you  go,  and  I'll  stay  with  the  baby.  I  can 
as  well  as  not.  Mrs.  Whitby  lives  near  us,  and 
you  just  stop  and  tell  mamma  about  it,  please. 
We'd  like  to,  wouldn't  we,  Hilda  ?  " 

Poor  little  Mrs.  Brummagen,  overwhelmed  by 
the  thought  of  the  young  ladies  staying  and 
taking  care  of  her  baby,  and  distracted  by  the 
boy,  who  instantly  urged  the  plan,  hardly  knew 
which  way  to  turn.  Cricket  and  Hilda  both 
insisted  loudly,  the  boy  announced  that  she  must 
iro  anyway,  and  so,  before  she  really  knew  what 
she  was  about,  she  had  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl, 


158  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

and  was  borne  away  triumphantly  by  the  boy, 
protesting,  all  the  time,  that  she  mustn't  leave 
the  clothes  in  soak. 

Hilda  and  Cricket  looked  at  each  other,  with 
broadly  smiling  faces,  when  they  were  left  in 
possession. 

"  Isn't  this  fun  ? "  beamed  Cricket.  "  I've 
always  wondered  how  it  would  seem  to  live  in 
one  room.  Just  like  a  baby-house,  isn't  it?" 
executing  a  war-dance  around  the  solemn  little 
Mosina,  who  watched  the  proceedings  with  calm 
interest. 

«  Lots  of  fun ! "  assented  Hilda.  "  What  will 
we  do  about  lunch  ?  " 

"  Lunch  !  "  replied  Cricket,  blankly,  at  this 
practical  suggestion ;  "  I  forgot  about  lunch. 
Oh,  I  guess  there'll  be  something  to  eat  in 
the  ice-box.  Why,  there  isn't  any  ice-box ! 
Well,  in  the  cupboard  then !  We'll  find  some- 
thing and  cook  it !  Oh, '  wot  larks  ! '  as  Archie 
says ; "  and  Cricket  danced  gaily  around  Mosina 
again, 

"  Lef  s  play  we  live  here  all  the  time,"  she 
added,  stopping,  with  one  foot  up.  "  I'll  be 
Mrs.  Brummagen.  No,  I  won't;  I  can  talk 
Irish  better  than  Dutch,  so  I'll  be  Mrs.  O'Flan- 


A    VISIT    TO    MOSINA.  159 

agan,  sure.  You  can  be  —  let  me  see  —  you 
can  be  my  daughter  or  my  sister." 

"  No,  I  won't  be  either,"  said  Hilda  with  dig- 
nity. "  I'll  be  your  mother,  and  wear  a  cap, 
and  say  '  Arrah  go  bragh,'  and  all  those  things." 

"  Oh,  splendid  !  you  always  do  the  old  lady 
parts  so  well,"  said  Cricket,  approvingly.  "  Let's 
see  what  we  can  find  for  a  cap.  See  !  here's  a 
little  white  skirt  of  Mosina's ;  guess  it's  her 
best  one.  Have  you  any  pins  ?  We  can  pin 
the  belt  together  and  double  the  skirt,  and 
here's  a  beautiful  cap  with  a  ruffle  and  all,  and 
so  becoming !  "  adjusting  the  big  cap,  admiringly, 
and  tucking  up  Hilda's  long  curls. 

"  Now  pin  this  funny  little  shawl  around  your 
shoulders.  What  a  lovely  grandma  you  always 
make  ! " 

No  wonder  Hilda  got  on  so  well  with  Cricket, 
who  always  made  things  easy  for  her,  and  loved 
and  admired  her  with  all  her  unselfish  little 
soul. 

"  You  must  pin  up  your  skirts  like  a  washer- 
woman," said  the  old  lady,  quite  delighted  with 
her  own  appearance.  "  Now  roll  your  sleeves 
up.  Mosina  is  your  baby,  you  know,  and  I'm 
her  grandma.  Now,  what  let's  do  ?  " 


160  i.rxrcE  AND  CRICKET. 

"  I  wonder  what  Mrs.  Brummagen  does  when 
she  isn't  washing  ?  Do  you  s'pose  she  reads  ? 
Why,  Hilda,  there  isn't  a  book  around  !  Don't 
you  s'pose  she  ever  reads  f "  with  the  greatest 
astonishment. 

"  Probably  she  gets  books  from  the  public 
library,"  suggested  Hilda.  "  Anyway,  I  dare 
say  she  hasn't  much  time  to  read.  T  shouldn't 
think  washerwomen  people  would  have.  Perhaps 
she  sews." 

"  There  isn't  a  sign  of  a  work-basket,"  said 
Cricket,  looking  around  with  increased  astonish- 
ment. "  Do  you  suppose  this  is  all  she  sews 
with  ? "  pointing  to  a  spool  of  coarse  white  thread 
with  a  big  needle  sticking  in  it,  and  a  brass 
thimble  standing  by  it. 

"  It  must  be.  No  books  and  no  sewing ! 
What  do  you  suppose  she  does  in  the  evening  ? " 
exclaimed  Hilda. 

"  It's  very  queer,"  said  Cricket,  thoughtfully. 

Neither  child,  of  course,  had  much  more  idea 
of  the  life  of  the  very  poor  than  they  had  of  the 
habits  of  a  kangaroo. 

"  But  we  must  do  something.  We  can't  sit 
around  all  day,"  added  Cricket  briskly.  "  Oh, 
let's  finish  the  washing  !  " 


A    VISIT    TO    MOSIXA.  161 

"  Do  you  think  that'll  be  fun  ?  "  asked  Hilda, 
doubtfully.  «  The  clothes  are  all  wet." 

"  Well,  Hilda,  of  course  they  are  !  Who  ever 
heard  of  washing  clothes  in  dry  water  ?  Come 
on !  We  needn't  splash  much,  if  we're  careful. 
Yes,  1  really  think  we  ought  to  do  it.  You 
know  she  didn't  want  to  go  and  leave  her 
clothes  in  the  water.  Perhaps  they  would  get 
rancid,  or  mildewed,  or  something." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  want  to,"  objected  Hilda. 
"  Ugh  !  think  of  putting  your  hands  into  that 
messy  water !  I  wouldn't  do  it  for  anything  !  " 
peering  into  the  tub  disgustedly. 

"  It  doesn't  look  very  —  appetising,"  said 
Cricket,  hesitating  for  a  word.  "  But  see ! 
here's  the  wringer  on  this  tub.  She  was  ready 
to  wring  them  out.  That's  fun,  anyway.  We 
can  fish  up  the  things  with  this  stick,  and  poke 
them  in,  and  turn  the  handle  and  they  come  out 
dry.  Then  we  could  iron  them,  and  they'll  be 
all  done  when  she  comes  home." 

Hilda  still  looked  doubtful  about  this  form  of 
amusement,  and,  with  her  ruffled  cap  very  much 
to  one  side,  she  silently  watched  Cricket  experi- 
ment with  a  stick. 

"  These  clothes  are  the  funniest !     They  don't 


162  EUNICE  J£ND  CRICKET. 

seem  to  have  any  ends;  they're  all  muddly/' 
she  said,  fishing,  vainly,  to  bring  something  out 
of  the  wet  mass.  "  Oh,  I  see  !  They're  sheets," 
bringing  one  up  slowly.  "  Shouldn't  you  think 
it  was  for  a  giant's  bed  ?  Look  !  "  raising  the 
sheet  on  the  stick  as  far  up  as  she  could  stretch, 
while  some  of  its  slippery  folds  still  lay  in  the 
water.  "  Doesn't  it  make  a  good  banner  ? " 
waving  it  slightly,  to  and  fro. 

"  Look  out,  Cricket !  you're  spattering  me  ! 
Ow!  look  out!"  and  Hilda  dodged  hastily,  for 
the  big  banner  overbalanced  itself,  and  the  heavy 
sheet  fell,  with  a  splash,  outside  the  tub  on  the 
floor. 

"Just  like  me!"  lamented  Cricket.  "Oh, 
Hilda,  pick  up  the  baby !  she'll  be  drowned  in 
all  this  water.  How  can  I  get  this  thing  up  ?  " 
struggling  with  the  stick  to  raise  the  unwieldy 
mass.  This  proving  impossible,  she  picked  it 
up  in  her  arms,  getting  herself  delightfully  wet, 
and  bundled  it  back  into  the  tub. 

"  Your  dress  is  a  perfect  mess,"  remarked 
Hilda,  who  had  put  the  baby  on  the  table,  and 
was  sitting  on  a  chair  beside  it,  with  her  feet 
tucked  under  her,  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the 
water. 


A    VISIT    TO    MOSINA.  163 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Cricket,  cheerfully.  "  Can't 
help  it.  Hilda,  you'll  have  to  sit  there  till  the 
water  dries  on  the  floor,  for  there  isn't  anything 
to  wipe  it  up  with.  Anyway,  I've  found  the 
end  of  this  sheet,  now,  and  I'm  going  to  wring 
it.  Isn't  this  fun !  It's  just  like  a  hand-organ ;  " 
and  Cricket  turned  the  handle  gaily. 

It  was  fun  till  the  heavy  folds  were  suddenly 
all  drawn  up  in  a  bunch  in  the  wringer,  and  the 
machine  stuck. 

44  Come  and  help  me,  Hilda.  Tiptoe  over 
here.  Oh,  you  can't  leave  the  baby.  Well,  I'll 
scatter  it  out  a  little." 

"  Scattering  the  sheet  out  "  was  effective,  and 
Cricket  turned  the  crank  with  all  her  might, 
not  noticing  that  the  long  squeezed  end  was 
piling  up  on  the  floor  till  the  last  corner  slipped 
through  and  fell  down. 

« It's  all  on  the  floor,"  observed  Hilda  from 
her  perch.  "  Won't  it  get  all  dirty  and  wet 
again  ? " 

"  So  it  has,"  cried  Cricket,  disappointedly, 
picking  the  sheet  up.  "  Won't  it  brush  off  ?  " 
rubbing  at  the  dirt  that  had  collected  on  it,  and 
thereby  making  it  ten  times  worse.  "  I  should 
have  put  something  there  to  catch  it.  Why  do 


164  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

I  always  think  behindhand  better  than  before- 
hand ?  How  can  people  think  of  everything  at 
once  ?  Never  mind ;  I  guess  it  will  come  off 
when  I  iron  it.  I'll  squeeze  another;  there's 
a  pan  for  it  to  go  into.  Don't  you  want  to  come 
and  help  me  ?  Tie  Mosina  to  that  chair  over  in 
that  corner ;  it's  dry  over  there." 

Fishing  out  the  ends  of  the  sheets  and  turning 
the  wringer  was  really  great  fun,  and  in  their 
zeal  the  children  quite  forgot  Mosina  for  a  time. 
Suddenly  a  roar,  behind  them,  startled  them. 
Mosina  seldom  cried,  but  when  she  did  it  was 
with  a  ponderousness  that  was  quite  in  keeping 
with  her  plump  body. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

KEEPING   HOUSE. 

POOR  little  Mosina  had  crawled  around  her 
chair  till  her  length  of  string  had  given  out,  and 
then,  endeavouring  to  crawl  between  the  chair- 
legs,  had  fallen  forward  on  her  face,  and  lay 
sprawled  out  like  a  little  turtle.  The  girls  flew 
for  her,  and  rescued  her  by  drawing  her  out  by 
the  heels.  She  refused  to  be  comforted,  how- 
ever, and  continued  to  roar. 

"  I  suppose  she's  hungry,"  said  Cricket,  at  last, 
in  a  tone  of  despair.  "  Hilda,  please  look  in  the 
closet  and  see  what  there  is  for  her  luncheon. 
Mosina,  do  hush,  baby  !  What,  Hilda  ? " 

"  I  said  that  there  isn't  a  thing  in  the  closet 
but  two  plates  and  a  stone  mug,  and  such  things, 
—  not  a  single  thing  to  eat." 

"  Look  in  that  little  cupboard  by  the  chimney, 
then.  Shouldn't  you.  think  she  must  have  some- 
thing to  eat  around  ?  What  shall  we  do  if  there 


166  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

isn't  anything  to  eat  anywhere  ? "  in  deeper 
despair. 

•'  There  is  something  here,"  announced  Hilda, 
joyfully,  having  climbed  upon  a  chair  to  look  in 
the  little  chimney-closet.  After  a  moment  she 
got  down,  soberly,  and  proclaimed  the  contents 
of  the  larder  to  be  two  dried  herrings,  a  half 
loaf  of  stale  bread,  some  doubtful-looking  butter, 
and  a  piece  of  very  dry  cheese. 

The  children  looked  at  each  other  in  dismay. 
Luncheon  to  them  seemed  a  very  serious  and 
pressing  matter,  especially  as  Mosina  was  still 
roaring,  and  they  knew  she  was  hungry. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  said  Cricket,  mourn- 
fully ;  "  I  feel  as  hungry  as  a  bear,  myself. 
"  Oh,  Hilda,  those  cookies !  " 

Hilda  flew  across  the  room  for  them,  with 
her  cap  flopping. 

Cricket  popped  a  big  piece  of  a  cookie  into  Mo- 
sina's  open  mouth,  and  put  another  in  her  hand. 

"  Sit  down  on  the  floor  now,  and  be  a  good 
baby,"  she  said,  putting  her  charge  down.  "  It's 
dry  enough.  Now,  Hilda,  what  will  we  eat? 
I  want  something  more  than  cookies." 

"  I  can't  eat  dried  herrjng,"  said  Hilda,  de- 
cidedly, her  fastidious  nose  going  up  in  disgust. 


KEEPING    HOUSE.  167 

"  We  might  toast  the  bread,  I  suppose,"  said 
Cricket.  "Do  you  think  they  don't  ever  have 
anything  but  dried  herring  ?  I've  always  won- 
dered why  mamma  is  always  sending  things  to 
eat  to  poor  people,  and  now  I  know." 

"  Can't  they  cook,  do  you  suppose,  or  do  they 
spend  all  their  time  washing  ? "  wondered  Hilda. 
"  Don't  you  think  they  ever  have  anything  to 
eat  except  what  people  send  them  ?  "  in  an  awe- 
struck tone. 

"  I  don't  believe  they  do.  Can  you  cut  bread, 
Hilda?" 

"  Of  course.  Anybody  can  cut  bread,  I 
should  think  ;  where's  the  knife  ?" 

"  I  can't  find  any  regular  bread-knife,"  said 
Cricket,  rummaging  in  the  cupboard.  "  Here's 
ope,  take  this  ;  it's  awfully  dull,  though.  While 
you're  cutting  it,  I'll  look  for  a  gridiron  to  toast 
the  bread  on." 

Hilda  took  the  loaf  and  the  knife  confidently, 
but  soon  discovered  that  cutting  bread  is  a  fine 
art,  and  not  by  any  means  so  easy  as  it  looks. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  said  in  despair, 
at  last.  "  Well,  nobody  could  cut  bread  with 
this  old  knife,  that's  as  dull  as  a  hoe,"  she 
added,  surveying  the  jagged,  uneven  wedges, 


168  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

which  were  all  she  could  manage.  "  Have 
you  found  the  gridiron?" 

"  No.  She  doesn't  seem  to  have  anything 
except  a  teakettle  and  a  saucepan.  And  here's 
a  flat  thing  like  what  cook  fries  potatoes  in,  and 
here's  a  tin  pan,  and  that's  every  single  thing  I 
can  find.  What  do  you  suppose  she  cooks 
with?"  asked  Cricket,  with  increasing  surprise, 
and  with  a  vision  before  her  eyes  of  the  quanti- 
ties of  shining  utensils  that  lined  the  kitchen 
closets  at  home. 

"Toast  the  bread  on  a  fork,  then,"  said 
Hilda  ;  "  and  can't  we  cook  the  herring  in  some 
way  ?  I'm  getting  hungry  enough  to  eat  nails 
now." 

"I  suppose  we  might  fry  them.  Then  we 
could  toast  the  cheese.  I  know  how  to  do 
that." 

"  All  right !  we'll  fry  the  herring  in  the 
spider,"  said  Hilda,  brightening;  "I  believe  it 
will  be  real  good.  But  what  will  Mosina  eat? 
Ought  she  to  have  herring  and  toasted  cheese  ?  " 

"Oh,  here's  some  milk  out  on  the  window 
ledge ! "  cried  Cricket,  joyfully.  "  We  can  crum- 
ble some  of  this  dry  bread  in  it,  and  feed 
Mosina  with  it.  That  will  be  fine  for  her. 


KEEPING    ROUSE.  169 

Bless  the  child !  she's  as  good  as  a  lamb 
now." 

"  Isn't  she  !  I'll  toast  the  bread,  and  you  can 
set  the  table,  Cricket." 

Cricket  assented ;  but  after  rummaging  a 
while,  asked  Hilda  where  she  supposed  Mrs. 
Brummagen  kept  her  table-cloths  and  napkins. 

"  In  that  cupboard  drawer,  probably,"  said 
Hilda,  trying  to  make  the  uneven  chunks  of 
bread  balance  on  the  two-tined  steel  fork  which 
she  had  found. 

"I  don't  suppose  we  ought  to  look  in  her 
drawers,  even  if  we  do  want  a  table-cloth.  Well, 
I'll  just  peek  in.  No ;  there's  nothing  there  but 
a  dress  of  Mosiha's,"  after  a  hasty  "  peek." 

"  I  can't  eat  off  that  faded  pink  thing  on 
the  table,"  said  Hilda,  with  decision.  "At 
least,  I  don't  believe  I  can,"  she  added,  more 
doubtfully,  as  the  empty  place  in  her  stomach 
began  to  protest  against  waiting  much  longer 
for  something  to  put  in  it.  "  Ow !  there  goes 
the  bread  into  the  fire  again !  " 

She  prodded  the  scorched  wedge  of  bread 
with  the  fork,  and  brought  it  up  successfully. 
She  was  growing  quite  expert  in  rescuing  the 
pieces  and  blowing  off  the  ashes. 


170  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"Cricket,  this  bread  is  simply  roasted,  in- 
stead of  toasted." 

ult  does  smell  pretty  scorchy,"  said  Cricket, 
looking  at  it  anxiously.  "We  can't  waste  it, 
though,  for  there  isn't  much  of  it.  Hilda,  I 
can't  find  a  single  thing  to  put  on  for  a  table- 
cloth, excepting  a -sheet.  Wouldn't  you  rather 
have  the  pink  cloth  ?  It  looks  clean,  anyway. 
Probably  her  white  cloths  are  all  in  the  wash." 

"  I'd  eat  it  on  the  floor  now,"  said  Hilda, 
with  a  decided  change  of  base.  "The  bread's 
done.  Now  for  the  herring." 

Cricket  proceeded  to  set  the  table,  by  putting 
the  knives  and  forks  and  the  two  plates  on. 

"  There's  the  table  set.  Looks  sort  of  bare, 
though.  What  will  you  do  with  the  herrings  ? 
Put  them  in  the  spider  and  let  them  frizzle  ?" 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Hilda,  doubtfully.  "  I  never 
saw  any  cooked,  but  how  else  could  we  eat  them  ? 
This  fire  doesn't  seem  very  hot,  Cricket.  Can't 
wo  do  something  to  it  ?  " 

Considering  that  the  stove  lids  had  been  off 
for  fifteen  minutes  during  the  bread-toasting,  it 
was  not  surprising  that  the  top  of  the  fire  was  a 
mass  of  gray  ashes. 

"  Put  on  coal,"  said  Cricket,  with  the  air  of 


KI:KPIX<;  HOUSE.  171 

tin-  lady  from  Philadelphia.  "But  do  let's  cook 
the  herring  lirst,  I'm  hungry  enough  to  eat 
Mosina.  Oh«,  you  fatty  !  aren't  you  happy  with 
your  cookies !  " 

"  Oh,  Cricket,  here  are  some  cold  boiled  pota- 
toes," cried  Hilda,  as  joyfully  as  if  she  had  dis- 
covered a  gold  mine.  "  They  were  back  in  this 
corner.  Can't  we  fry  them  ?  " 

"  We  can,"  returned  Cricket,  promptly.  "  I'll 
fry  them  in  the  saucepan  while  you  do  the  her- 
ring. I'll  cut  them  up." 

Ten  minutes  later,  the  two  little  cooks  stood 
looking  at  each  other  in  despair.  The  thin  iron 
of  the  spider  and  saucepan  heated  immediately, 
even  over  the  dying  fire,  and  the  potatoes  and 
herring  being  put  in  without  any  lard,  or  fat  of 
any  kind,  naturally  stuck  fast  to  the  bottom  of 
the  pan,  and  scorched.  Most  unpleasant  odours 
filled  the  air. 

"Did  you  ever  imagine  it  was  so  hard  to 
cook?"  sighed  Cricket.  "That  toast  was 
stone-cold  long  ago.  Look  at  these  messy 
things !  " 

•-  The  \vorst  of  it  is  that  we  can't  eat  the 
burned  parts,"  said  Hilda,  hungrily,  "  and 
there'll  be  so  little  left." 


172  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  Hilda,  let's  eat  what  we  can  of  it  right 
now"  proposed  Cricket.  "  If  we  cook  any  more 
we'll  never  get  anything  to  eat."  . 

"  I  could  eat  fried  boards,"  said  Hilda.  "  Yes, 
let's  scrape  out  what  of  the  potatoes  isn't  burned 
tight  down,  and  eat  it  up /««£;"  and  Hilda  picked 
up  the  saucepan. 

"  Oh,  Hilda,  I  forgot  about  Mosina !  Aren't 
you  the  bestest  baby !  She  ought  to  have  her 
milk,  Hilda,  and  I'll  give  her  some  while  you're 
fixing  luncheon  on  the  table." 

Cricket  poured  some  of  the  ice-cold  milk  out 
into  a  bowl,  and  crumbled  some  dry  bread  in  it. 

Mosina  received  each  mouthful  with  a  series 
of  solemn  smacks. 

"  I'm  ready  when  you  are,  Cricket,"  announced 
Hilda  at  length,  surveying  the  somewhat  scanty 
board  with  a  hungry  eye. 

"  There  goes  the  last  mouthful,  Mosina,"  said 
Cricket,  stuffing  the  spoon  so  hastily  into  Mosi- 
na's  open  mouth  that  the  baby  choked. 

"  There !  never  mind,  baby  !  it  didn't  hurt. 
Now  I'm  ready,  Hilda.  Oh,  just  think  !  we've 
been  so  busy  with  washing  and  cooking  that 
we've  forgotten  to  play  for  ever  so  long." 

"  Yes,  but  don't  let's  play  now,  for  goodness 


KKKPIXC;    iiorsK. 


KEEPING    HOUSE.  175 

sake !  I'm  too  starving  hungry !  Sit  down  and 
begin." 

Cricket  and  Hilda  drew  up  their  chairs  to  the 
delicious  banquet.  On  one  plate  lay  a  curious- 
looking  heap  of  what  Hilda  called  toast.  It 
consisted  of  wedges  of  bread  an  inch  and  a  half 
thick  on  one  side,  and  nothing  at  all  on  the 
other,  burnt  crisp  on  the  thin  edges,  and 
scorched  on  the  thick  ones,  with  the  dust  of 
the  ashes  which  it  had  collected  in  its  numerous 
descents  into  the  fire  still  sticking  to  it.  It  was 
perfectly  cold,  so  that  the  small  lumps  of  white 
butter  stuck  to  it  unmelted.  Two  herrings^  burnt 
perfectly  black  on  one  side,  and,  of  course,  as 
hard  as  a  piece  of  coal,  reposed  side  by  side  on 
a  saucer.  Potatoes  cut  in  little  chunks,  each 
very  black  as  to  one  side  and  very  white  as  to 
the  other,  were  heaped  up  on  another  saucer. 
These  dainties  comprised  all  the  meal. 

Cricket  and  Hilda  looked  at  each  other  a 
moment  in  silence,  then  Cricket  said  briskly : 

"  Isn't  this  fun  ?  Let's  play  this  is  roast 
turkey.  Shall  I  carve?  or  perhaps  I'd  better 
give  you  a  whole  turkey,  seeing  we  are  wealthy 
enough  to  have  two,"  transferring  one  of  the 
herrings  to  Hilda's  plate.  "  Will  you  have 


176  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

some  scalloped  oysters  ? "  passing  the  potatoes. 
"  They're  done  by  a  new  recipe,"  she  added, 
laughing,  and  attacking  her  herring  with  knife 
and  fork.  Hilda  followed  her  example.  Of 
course  they  might  as  well  have  tried  to  cut 
their  stone  plates. 

"  I'm  desperate !  please  excuse  me,"  cried 
Cricket,  lifting  her  herring,  head  and  tail,  with 
her  fingers,  and  attacking  it  this  time  with  her 
teeth.  She  desisted  after  a  vain  effort. 

"  It's  no  use,"  she  sighed.  "  I  got  off  a  few 
splinters,  but  they  are  not  so  very  good.  They 
do  taste  burned,  and  if  there's  one  thing  I  hate, 
it's  burn.  Well,  let's  have  some  toast." 

"  That's  burned  a  little,  too,"  said  Hilda,  apol- 
ogetically. "  Perhaps  we  can  scrape  it  off  where 
it's  thicker  and  eat  the  inside.  Cricket,  these 
—  these  oysters  seem  to  need  something.  They 
don't  taste  like  fried  potatoes  a  bit." 

"Of  course  they  don't,  for  they're  oysters. 
How  could  oysters  taste  fried  potatoes?  But 
they  do  taste  queer,  even  for  oysters,"  said 
Cricket.  "  The  toast  is  a  little  burned,  isn't  it  ? " 
nibbling  first  around  one  scorched  place  and 
then  around  another.  Finally  she  laid  the  piece 
down  in  despair. 


KKKlM.Nt;     HOUSE.  177 

"  Hilda,  the  more  I  eat,  the  hungrier  I  get ! 
I  think  I'll  try  some  plain  bread." 

"  There  isn't  any  more.  I  toasted  all  1  cut, 
and  the  rest  you  gave  to  Mosina." 

The  two  girls  sat  hungrily  surveying  the 
remains  of  their  luncheon.  The  herring  had 
been  abandoned  as  hopeless.  The  white  top  of 
each  little  chunk  of  potato  was  eaten,  though 
every  one  knows  that  scorched  potato,  without 
either  salt  or  butter,  is  not  exactly  appetis- 
ing. The  inside  of  the  thick  ends  of  the 
bread  had  been  devoured  also,  but  their  frag- 
ments were  not  very  satisfying  to  hearty  little 
appetites. 

"  There  are  the  cookies,"  said  Hilda,  suddenly. 

Cricket  sprang  for  them  eagerly,  at  the  sug- 
gestion. 

"  It  seems  sort  of  mean  to  eat  the  very  things 
we  brought,"  she  said,  hesitating  a  moment. 
"  Oh,  well,  mamma  will  send  some  more  things 
down  to-morrow,  when  I  tell  her  how  we  eat  up 
everything  Mrs.  Bruminagen  had  in  the  house. 
Don't  these  taste  good  ?  I  feel  as  if  I  were  at 
home  again  now,"  attacking  a  thin,  crisp  ginger- 
snap,  and  making  way  with  it  almost  in  one 
mouthful.  In  a  minute  there  was  nothing  left 


178  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

but  the  crumbs  of  the  whole  supply.  Mosina  sat 
staring  wistfully  at  them. 

"  The  poor  dear !  "  said  Hilda.  "  We've 
eaten  up  every  single  thing  now,  and  she  looks 
hungry  still." 

"  There's  a  little  more  milk,"  said  Cricket, 
getting  it.  "  Drink  this,  baby.  Hilda,  do  you 
suppose  the  burned  bread  would  hurt  her  if  we 
crumbled  it  into  the  milk  for  her  ?  Perhaps  she 
won't  taste  it." 

Apparently  Mosina  did  not  mind  it,  for  she 
eat  it  eagerly. 

"  What  let's  do  now  ?  "  asked  Hilda.  "  When 
will  Mrs.  Brummagen  be  home,  do  you  think  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  Let's  clear  the  table  and 
iron  these  sheets.  You  know  we  were  going  to 
get  them  all  done." 

Flat-irons  had  been  standing  on  the  stove  all 
the  morning,  though  the  girls  had  pushed  them 
back  in  their  attempts  at  cooking.  Hilda  looked 
resigned  at  Cricket's  proposal,  but  said  noth- 
ing. The  two  cleared  the  table  of  the  remains  of 
their  banquet,  and  piled  up  the  scanty  array 
of  dishes. 

The  sheets  were  still  lying  in  damp,  flattened 
coils  in  the  basket,  where  they  had  put  them. 


KEEPING    HOUSE.  179 

Cricket  found  the  ironing-board  and  put  it  be- 
tween the  table  and  a  chair,  as  she  had  seen  the 
laundress  do  at  home.  They  unfolded  a  sheet 
and  spread  it  out  carefully,  wrinkled  and  wet, 
over  the  board,  not  noticing  that  half  of  it  lay 
on  the  floor  behind. 

Cricket,  with  a  professional  air,  tested  one  of 
the  irons,  again  imitating  the  laundress. 

"  Pretty  hot,"  she  said.  It  was  really  barely 
warm,  for  the  fire  was  fast  dying,  but  to  her  un- 
accustomed finger  it  felt  hot. 

"Now,  I'm  really  Mrs.  O'Flanagan.  We 
mustn't  forget  to  play.  You  take  care  of  the 
baby,  mother,  and  I'll  iron.  And — Hilda!" 
with  a  sudden  change  of  tone,  "Look  here!" 
for  the  half-warm  flat-iron  on  the  damp  sheet 
had  left  a  long,  black  smooch.  "  What  in  the 
world  is  the  matter?  It  keeps  doing  it;"  for 
Cricket  tried  different  places,  with  the  result  of 
producing  a  smallpox  of  black  spots.  "Did 
you  ever  ? " 

"  Perhaps  the  iron  is  too  hot,  and  scorches  it," 
suggested  Hilda,  surveying  the  places  critically. 

"  I  never  want  to  hear  the  word  '  scorched ' 
again,"  said  Cricket,  setting  down  her  iron  with 
a  thump.  "  If  it's  being  scorched,  1  shan't  iron 


180  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

any  more.  That's  one  thing  sure  ; "  and  Cricket 
hastily  bundled  the  sheet  back  into  the  basket. 
Between  lying  on  the  floor  and  the  smooches 
from  the  iron,  the  colour  of  the  sheet  was  fast 
becoming  African. 

"  It's  the  queerest  thing  !  I  thought  that 
ironing  was  as  easy  as  falling  off  a  log,"  using 
her  favourite  comparison,  which  long  experience 
had  shown  her  was  very  easy  indeed. 

"  When  Sarah  irons,  she  leaves  smooth  streaks 
everywhere  the  iron  touches.  I  thought  any- 
body could  iron." 

"/  thought  anybody  could  fry  potatoes. 
Cricket,  what  time  do  you  suppose  it  is  ?  I 
think  it  must  be  nearly  dinner-time.  Don't 
you  feel  as  if  you'd  been  here  a  week  ? " 

"  Yes,  a  month.  Don't  eat  that  string,  Mo- 
sina.  You're  as  bad  as  Johnnie-goat." 

"  And,  Cricket,  just  suppose  she  shouldn't  get 
home  before  dark !  " 

"  Oh,  papa  would  send  for  us,"  said  Cricket, 
securely.  "  He  knows  we're  here.  But  I  do 
wish  Mrs.  Brummagen  would  come  home.  I'm 
getting  dreadfully  tired  of  playing  I'm  poor. 
What  do  you  want,  Mosina  ? "  picking  up  the 
plump  baby  that  crawled  up  to  her,  pulling  at 


KEEPING    HOUSE.  181 

her  dress.  She  sat  down  on  the  floor,  taking 
her  little  diarii-e  in  her  arms. 

"  What  you  get  fat  on,  Mosina,  /don't  know, 
unless  it's  fattening  not  to  eat  much.  Mosina, 
1  used  to  think  it  would  be  fun  to  live  in  one 
room,  and  get  your  own  meals,  and  play  house- 
keeping, but  I've  changed  my  mind.  When  you 
have  to  live  on  burnt  herring  — 

"  And  stale  bread,"  burst  in  Hilda. 

"  And  burned  potatoes  — 

"  And  iron  with  irons  that  won't  iron  — 

"And  have  messy  washing  around  all  the 
time  —  " 

"  And  nothing  to  sew  with  — 

"  And  nothing  to  cook  with,  and  nothing  to 
cook  in  it  —  " 

"  And  only  wooden  chairs  to  sit  down  on  —  " 

"  And  nothing  to  read  — 

"  Oh,  goodness,  gracious  me !  I  do  believe 
1  won't  ever  scold  again  at  home,  and  say  I 
hate  things,"  said  Hilda,  drawing  a  long  breath. 
"  I  never  thought  before  how  perfectly  horrid  it 
would  be  never  to  have  anything  nice.  I  won- 
der if  poor  people  mind  it." 

"  Oh,  dear,  I  hope  not ! "  said  Cricket,  looking 
troubled.  "  When  I'm  rich,  Hilda,"  —  with 


182  EUNICE    A.ND    CRICKET. 

the  confidence  of  childhood  that  such  a  time 
is  surely  coming,  —  "  I'll  give  everything  I  have 
to  poor  people,  so  they  won't  have  to  work  so 
hard,  and  can  get  books  to  read." 

"  But  you  couldn't  do  that,"  objected  Hilda, 
practically,  "for  you  would  not  have  anything 
left  for  yourself,  and  you'd  be  poor.  And  if 
nobody  was  poor,  who'd  do  our  cooking,  and  all 
those  things  ?  " 

This  problem  was  too  deep  for  Cricket's 
troubled  little  brain. 

"  It's  a  puzzle,"  she  sighed ;  then  she  added, 
brightening,  "  I'll  ask  papa ;  he'll  fix  it,  when 
he's  rich.  But  —  I  don't  see  why  — "  she  pon- 
dered, struck  by  another  thought, "  why  /should 
have  a  nice  home  and  such  a  dear  family,  and 
books,  and  everything  I  want,  and  Mosina  have 
only  this  little  room  and  not  much  to  eat.  Sup- 
pose Pd  happened  to  be  Mosina,  and  Mosina  had 
been  me  !  Oh,  dear !  it  gets  worse  and  worse ! " 

And  Cricket,  with  a  sigh  of  puzzlement  over 
this  problem  of  all  ages,  dropped  a  kiss  on 
Mosina's  placid  cheek. 

But  Mosina,  herself,  suddenly  put  an  end  to 
the  consideration  of  all  hard  questions,  by  set- 
ting up  one  of  her  unexpected  roars,  as  she 


KEEPING    HOUSE.  183 

doubled  herself  up  like  a  little  jack-knife.  Poor 
little  thing!  the  ice-cold  milk  had  naturally 
given  her  a  severe  attack  of  colic. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  baby  ? "  cried  Cricket, 
in  dismay,  cuddling  Mosina  in  her  arms,  in  her 
motherly  little  fashion.  Mosina  roared  on,  al- 
ternately doubling  herself  up  and  straightening 
herself  out.  Cricket  and  Hilda  began  to  get 
thoroughly  frightened. 

"  Cricket,  she  isn't  dying,  is  she  ?  "  whispered 
Hilda,  trembling.  Not  having  any  brothers  or 
sisters,  she  was  perfectly  helpless  with  children. 

"  1  don't  know,  but  I  guess  not,"  said  Cricket, 
feeling  rather  disturbed,  herself.  "  There,  baby  ! 
hush,  dear  !  What  shall  I  do  for  you  ?  Mercy, 
Hilda,  she's  getting  black  in  the  face !  Do 
go  for  somebody." 

«  Where  shall  I  go  ? "  asked  Hilda  helplessly, 
wringing  her  hands. 

"  Anywhere  —  down  -  stairs  —  in  the  next 
room.  Find  somebody  quickly." 

Hilda  flew  for  the  door,  and  ran  plump  into 
Mrs.  Brummagen,  who  rushed  in  breathlessly. 
In  a  twinkling,  the  baby  was  in  her  arms. 
Mosina  was  holding  her  breath,  and  was  purple 
in  the  face.  Her  mother  promptly  blew  down 


184  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

her  throat,  and  thumped  her  on  the  back,  and 
in  a  moment  the  roar  began  again,  but  rather 
less  vehemently.  The  colic  was  evidently  pass- 
ing over. 

Poor  little  Mrs.  Brummagen  was  in  a  state 
of  excitement  and  apology  bordering  on  distrac- 
tion, at  the  idea  of  the  young  ladies  staying 
there  all  day  long,  and  taking  care  of  Mosina 
all  that  time. 

"  An'  you  eat  —  vat  ?  "  she  demanded,  trag- 
ically. "  Der  vas  noding  to  eat.  An*  you 
been  here  —  four  —  five  —  six  —  hour !  " 

"  We  couldn't  find  much  to  eat,"  admitted 
Cricket,  honestly.  "  We  tried  to  cook  the  her- 
rings, but  they  were  rather  tough,  and  we  fried 
potatoes,  only  they  wouldn't  fry.  They  seemed 
to  burn,  somehow." 

Mrs.  Brummagen  poured  out  a  string  of 
mingled  German  and  English  ejaculations,  ex- 
pressive of  her  distress. 

"  And,  Mrs.  Brummagen,  we  thought  we'd 
help  you  a  little  and  get  your  sheets  all  washed 
and  ironed,  but  somehow  it  didn't  go  right,  and 
we  made  a  dreadful  mess  of  it.  I  guess  you 
have  to  know  how,  if  you  wash  and  iron.  It 
looks  so  easy,  I  thought  any  one  could  do  it. 


KEEPING   HOUSE.  185 

The  sheet  is  dreadfully  dirty  —  the  one  we  did,  I 
mean,  —  and  its  all  smoochy,  too.  Will  it  come 
out?"  and  Cricket  shook  out  the  damp  sheet 
from  the  basket,  and  anxiously  displayed  it. 

Mrs.  Brummagen  was  more  overcome  than 
before. 

"  Ach,  the  dear  chilt ! "  she  cried.  "  Ya,  it 
vill  come  out,  ven  I  vash  him  mit  soap." 

"  I'm  so  glad,"  said  Cricket,  greatly  relieved. 
"  Of  course,  mamma  would  have  given  you 
another  one,  though.  Now,  we  must  go,  I  think. 
Oh,  Hilda !  we  forgot  your  cap !  Mrs.  Brum- 
magen, we  dressed  up  to  play  keeping  house, 
but  we  were  so  busy  doing  it,  that  we  forgot  to 
play  much." 

Mrs.  Brummagen  helped  them  on  with  their 
things,  talking  all  the  time,  in  her  broken  Eng- 
lish, and  telling  them  how  she  ought  not  have 
gone  at  all,  and  how  she  hardly  knew  what  she 
was  doing,  and  how  she  couldn't  get  away 
sooner,  and  how  she  had  worried  all  day  about 
their  getting  something  to  eat. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Cricket.  "  We  enjoyed 
it  ever  so  much.  Good-bye,  Mosina.  Bring  her 
up  on  Saturday,  when  you  come  for  the  bundle, 
won't  you  ?  Good-bye." 


186  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

It  was  getting  well  into  the  dusk  of  the  short 
winter  day,  when  the  children  arrived  at  home. 
Cricket  flew  into  her  mother's  arms  and  kissed 
her  as  if  she  had  been  gone  six  weeks. 

"  My  little  girl,  where  have  you  been,  and 
what  have  you  been  doing  ?  I  was  just  sending 
Eliza  down  for  you.  Somebody  left  word  at 
the  basement  door  that  you  were  going  to  stay 
at  Mrs.  Brummagen's  all  day,  but  I  expected 
you  home  long  ago." 

"  Mamma,  we've  been  playing  poor,  and  * 
don't  —  like  —  it  —  one  —  bit,"  said  Cricket, 
slowly,  with  her  head  on  her  mother's  neck. 
44 1  always  thought  it  would  be  rather  fun  tc 
be  poor,  but  it  isn't.  It's  just  perfectly  horrid 
And  I'm  so  hungry,  you  can't  think !  And 
oh,  mamma  dearest !  suppose  —  just  suppose  — 
that  I'd  been  Mrs.  Brummagen's  little  girl, 
instead  of  yours!" 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    DIAMOND    RING. 

THE  short  days  of  the  girls'  visit  flew  by  on 
wings. 

"  Only  till  to-morrow  ! "  sighed  Cricket,  as 
they  got  up  from  the  luncheon- table.  "  This 
time  to-morrow  you'll  be  gone,  and  we'll  be 
left  forlorn !  I  wish  people  who  come  here 
to  visit  would  stay  for  always,  and  never  go 
away." 

"  What  an  India-rubber  house  you'd  have  to 
have,"  said  Archie,  sweeping  all  her  curls  over 
her  face  with  a  flourish  of  his  arm,  as  he  passed 
her. 

"Archie,  when  you  get  to  heaven,  you  won't 
be  happy  unless  you  can  muss  my  hair  up,"  said 
Cricket,  resignedly,  shaking  it  back. 

"Don't  get  riled,  Miss  Scricket,"  returned 
Archie,  whirling  her  around.  "That's  only  a 
love-pat." 

"A  lovf-pat  !  "  said  Cricket,  scornfully.     "I 


188  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

shouldn't  like  to  feel  one  of  your  hate-pa.ts.  then. 
Mamma,  what  can  Hilda  and  I  do  this  after- 
noon ?  " 

"  We  girls  are  going  to  the  museum  again," 
said  Eunice.  "  Come  with  us." 

"  No,  we  don't  want  to.  You  like  to  see  such 
^interesting  things.  Mummies  and  all  that. 
I  only  like  the  pictures  and  marbles,  anyway." 

"  We  want  something  very  nice,"  put  in  Hilda, 
"  because  we  kept  house  all  day  yesterday,  and 
did  very  hard  wc^k." 

"  Yes,"  sighed  Cricket,  "  I've  learned  two 
things  lately.  I  don't  want  to  adopt  a  baby  and 
have  it  keep  me  awake  at  night,  and  I  don't 
want  to  be  poor  and  not  have  any  books  to  read. 
Mamma,  what  can  we  do  ?  " 

"  There  is  one  thing  I  want  you  to  do,"  said 
mamma,  promptly,  knowing  by  long  experience 
that  when  children  are  begging  for  something 
to  do,  nothing  seems  very  attractive,  if  offered 
as  a  choice.  The  same  thing,  given  as  some- 
thing from  which  there  is  no  appeal,  will  be 
done  cheerfully. 

"I  want  you  both  to  go  and  see  Emily  Dray- 
ton  for  a  little  while  this  afternoon.  It  is 
Hilda's  last  chance.  Eunice  and  Edith  went 


THE    DIAMOND    RING.  189 

yesterday.  Go  about  three  o'clock.  She'll  be 
delighted  to  see  you,  if  she  is  at  home." 

"That  will  be  jolly.  I  hope  she'll  be  in. 
Must  we  make  a  regular  call,  mamma,  or  can 
we  plain  go  and  see  her  ?  " 

"  'Plain  go  and  see  her,' "  said  mamma,  smiling. 
"  Only  go  and  put  on  your  Sunday  dress.  It 
will  be  more  polite  to  dress  especially  for  it," 
added  wise  mamma,  knowing  the  process  of  dress- 
ing would  help  fill  up  the  afternoon.  Papa  had 
planned  to  take  all  the  children  for  a  long  drive 
this  afternoon,  but  as  he  was  unexpectedly  called 
away,  it  had  to  be  given  up,  and  the  girls  were 
thrown  on  their  own  resources. 

At  three,  the  two  younger  girls,  in  their  Sun- 
day best,  started  in  high  feather  for  their  call. 
It  was  a  long  walk  to  Emily  Drayton's,  but  the 
children  enjoyed  the  crisp,  cold  day  and  the 
brisk  exercise.  Unfortunately,  when  they  ar- 
rived at  their  destination,  they  found  that  Emily 
was  out  with  her  mother,  and  would  not  be 
home  till  late  in  the  afternoon.  Therefore  there 
was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  turn  around  and 
travel  home  again. 

"  This  isn't  very  exciting,  after  all,"  said 
Cricket,  mournfully.  "  Here  it's  nearly  four 


190  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

o'clock,  and  most  of  your  last  afternoon  is  gone 
already.  What  let's  do  next,  Hilda  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  wish  we'd  gone  to  the 
museum  with  the  girls.  What's  the  matter. 
Cricket?" 

Cricket  had  suddenly  stopped,  and  was  poking 
at  a  crack  in  the  sidewalk. 

"  I  thought  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  something- 
shiny  in  that  crack.  I  did  !  See,  Hilda !  "  and 
Cricket  extricated  something,  triumphantly,  and 
held  it  up. 

Her  own  amazement  grew  as  she  looked. 

"What?  Not  really,  Cricket?"  cried  Hilda, 
and  the  two  heads  clashed  over  the  treasure-trove. 

It  was  a  ring  with  a  fairly  good-sized  dia- 
mond. 

Cricket  whooped,  there  and  then,  in  her  excite- 
ment. Fortunately  the  street  was  a  quiet  one, 
and  no  one  was  near. 

"A  diamond  ring,  Hilda!  A  really,  truly 
diamond  !  Hooray  !  It's  as  big  as  the  one  papa 
gave  mamma  on  her  birthday.  I  wonder  if  he'll 
let  me  wear  it." 

"  But  somebody  has  lost  it,"  said  Hilda,  in 
her  practical  way.  "  You'll  have  to  find  the 


THE    DIAMOND    RING. 


THE    DIAMOND    RING.  193 

"  Why,  so  I  will !  How  silly  of  me.  I  sup- 
pose papa  will  advertise  it.  It's  just  like  our 
finding  Mosina ;  we  never  thought  that  some- 
body owned  her.  Let's  hurry  home  and  show 
papa." 

The  children  skipped  home  briskly,  in  the 
excitement  of  so  great  a  discovery,  and  burst 
into  Doctor  Ward's  office  eagerly.  He  had  just 
come  in  for  something  he  needed,  and  was  on 
the  point  of  going  out  again. 

"  Found  what  ?  A  diamond  ring  ?  "  he  asked, 
putting  down  his  hat,  and  taking  the  ring  that 
Cricket  put  in  his  hand. 

"  H'm.  Where  did  you  find  this  ?  "  he  asked, 
turning  it  to  the  light. 

Cricket  told  him  about  it.  Doctor  Ward,  as 
he  listened,  took  down  a  tiny  vial  from  one  of  his 
shelves,  and  put  a  drop  of  its  contents  on  the 
ring,  watching  the  effect. 

"It's  gold,  but  I'm  a  little  uncertain  about 
the  diamond,"  he  said.  "  It's  not  worth  adver- 
tising, if  it's  not  real,"  he  said,  putting  back  the 
bottle.  "  You  may  take  it  to  the  jeweller's,  if 
you  like,  and  get  his  opinion." 

"  Not  a  diamond  ? "  cried  the  disappointed 
children,  in  a  breath. 


194  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  I  think  it's  only  paste,  my  dear.  However, 
you  can  run  around  to  the  jeweller's  and  find 
out  I  must  go  now." 

"  Oh,  dear  ine  !  "  sighed  Cricket,  sorrowfully ; 
"I  thought  we  surely  had  found  some  excite- 
ment. Well,  come  on,  Hilda ;  let's  go  to 
Spencer's  and  find  out.  If  it  isn't  a  real  dia- 
mond, may  we  have  it,  papa  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Doctor  Ward,  absent- 
mindedly,  turning  to  find  something  else  he 
wanted. 

At  Spencer's  the  clerk  took  the  ring  with  a 
smile. 

"  No,  it  isn't  a  diamond,"  he  said,  after  giving 
it  a  careless  glance.  "  Found  it  ?  No,  it  isn't 
worth  advertising." 

The  two  girls,  who  had  still  clung  to  the  hope 
that  they  had  found  a  diamond,  looked  im- 
mensely disappointed  at  this  decision.  They 
took  the  ring  and  walked  slowly  homeward, 
discussing  the  affair. 

"If  it  isn't  a  real  diamond,  and  if  it  isn't 
worth  advertising,  we  might  sell  it  for  what  it 
is  worth,"  suggested  Hilda,  brilliantly,  at  last. 
"  Let's  go  into  the  first  jeweller's  store  we  come 
to,  and  ask  him  to  buy  it." 


THE    DIAMOND    UIN<J.  195 

"  Could  we  ? "  said  Cricket,  doubtfully.  "  Is 
it  ours  enough  for  that  ?  " 

"Of  course,  goosie.  Your  father  said  we 
might  have  it,  didn't  he?  Of  course  we  have 
a  right  to  sell  it  and  keep  the  money.  He 
wouldn't  care,"  urged  Hilda. 

"No,  I  s'pose  not,"  returned  Cricket,  hesi- 
tating. "  How  much  do  you  suppose  we'd  get 
for  it?" 

"  Oh,  twenty  or  thirty  dollars,  I  suppose,  or 
something  like  that.  Rings  cost  a  lot,"  an- 
swered Hilda,  vaguely.  "  What  shall  we  do 
with  the  money?" 

"  Buy  a  bicycle,"  said  Cricket,  promptly. 
"  Let's  each  buy  one.  I'm  crazy  for  a  '  bika- 
chine,'  as  Kenneth  says." 

«  So  am  I.     What  kind  would  you  get?" 

"They  say  the  Humber  is  a  pretty  nice 
wheel,"  said  Cricket,  reflectively ;  "  but  I 
guess  that  they  cost  too  much,  for  I  heard 
Donald  say  that  he  wanted  one  but  couldn't 
afford  it.  Perhaps  we  couldn't  get  one  of  them, 
but  we  might  each  get  a  Columbia.  Archie 
and  Will  have  Columbian.  Do  you  know  how 
much  they  cost?"  asked  Cricket,  who  never 
had  any  more  idea  of  the  value  of  things  than 


196  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

a  cat.  She  had  probably  heard  the  price  of  a 
good  bicycle  mentioned  scores  of  times,  without 
its  making  the  slightest  impression  upon  her. 
Hilda,  who,  living  alone  with  her  mother  and 
grandmother,  never  heard  bicycles  talked  about, 
really  did  not  know. 

"  I  think  the  Columbian  would  do  for  us  to 
learn  on,"  she  said,  patronigingly.  "  You  can't 
ride,  can  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  1  learned  last  fall  on  some  of  the  girls' 
wheels  at  school.  It's  just  as  easy  as  pie.  It's 
so  funny  that  people  make  so  much  fuss  about 
learning.  I  like  a  boy's  wheel  best,  though. 
Wish  I  was  on  one  this  minute,"  said  Cricket, 
with  a  little  skip. 

"  Now  what  else  shall  we  get  with  the  rest  of 
the  money  ? "  asked  Hilda. 

"  A  bicycle  for  Eunice,"  answered  Cricket 
immediately.  "  Of  course,  mine  would  be  part 
hers,  but  we  couldn't  both  ride  at  a  time,  unless 
I  hung  on  behind,  somehow.  I  suppose  I  might 
get  a  tandem." 

"  Then  you  never  could  ride  without  some- 
body on  behind,"  said  Hilda,  sensibly ;  "  and 
you  might  not  always  want  it.  "  No,  I'd  get  a 
single  wheel,  if  I  were  you.  I  think  I'll  get 


THE    DIAMOND    RING.  197 

a  gold  thimble  with  the  rest  of  iny  half  of  the 
money." 

"  I  want  a  lot  of  new  books,"  said  Cricket, 
characteristically.  "  I  wish  somebody  would 
invent  a  book,  that  as  fast  as  you  read  it 
would  turn  into  another  book  that  you  haven't 
read.  Then  you'd  always  have  a  new  book  to 
read.  Will  you  get  anything  else  ?  " 

"  I  want  a  lot  of  things  more,  but  I  guess  I'll 
put  the  rest  of  my  money  into  the  savings  bank. 
I've  got  three  hundred  dollars  in  the  savings 
bank  already." 

"  I  tried  to  make  money,  once,  to  buy  a  bi- 
cycle," said  Cricket,  meditatively.  "  1  had  a  store 
on  the  dock  at  Marbury  for  one  day.  Sold  peanuts 
and  lemonade.  It  was  pretty  tiresome  though, 
and  I  didn't  make  very  much.  Auntie  said  J 
didn't  make  anything,  but  I  never  could  under- 
stand it,  somehow.  I  had  twenty-one  cents  to 
put  in  my  bank  at  night.  I  had  fifty  cents  in 
the  morning,  but  we  spent  it  buying  things  to 
sell.  Business  is  so  queer.  I  should  think 
men's  heads  would  burst,  finding  out  whether 
they  are  making  money  or  losing  it." 

"  It's  a  great  deal  nicer  not  to  make  money, 
but  have  somebody  leave  you  plenty,  then  you 


198  EUNICE    AND    (  K1CKET. 

don't  have  to  bother,"  said  Hilda.  "  Here's  a 
store ;  let's  go  in  here." 

The  two  little  girls  marched  up  to  the  first 
clerk  they  saw. 

"  We  want  to  see  if  you'll  buy  this  ring  of 
us,"  said  Cricket,  holding  it  out.  "  We  want  to 
sell  it,  please,  and  please  give  us  all  you  can  for 
it." 

The  clerk  stared  and  smiled. 

"I'll  have  to  see  the  old  gentleman  about 
buying  the  ring,"  he  said.  "  You  wait  here  a 
moment,"  and  with  that  he  went  off  with  the 
ring,  leaving  the  children  looking  after  him 
hungrily,  and  a  little  uncertain  whether  they 
would  see  their  treasure  again.  However,  the 
clerk  returned  in  a  moment. 

"Mr.  Elton  says  he  can't  buy  it  unless  you 
bring  a  note  from  your  father  or  somebody,  say- 
ing it's  all  right  about  your  selling  the  ring,  for 
he  doesn't  want  to  be  let  in  for  receiving  stolen 
property." 

The  clerk  meant  this  for  a  joke,  but  the  hor- 
ror-stricken children  did  not  understand  this 
kind  of  humour. 

"  I  said  I  found  it,"  said  indignant  Cricket  at 
last,  finding  her  voice. 


THE    DIAMOND    RING.  199 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right,  1  dare  say,"  said  the  clerk 
carelessly ;  "  you  run  along  and  get  a  note  from 
somebody,  and  that  will  do." 

The  children  walked  out  of  the  store  in  a 
state  divided  between  indignation  and  bewilder- 
ment. 

"  1  said  I  found  it,"  repeated  Cricket.  "  1 
don't  see  what  he  wants  a  note  for." 

•'  Let's  go  somewhere  else  and  sell  it,  and  then 
they'll  be  sorry,"  said  Hilda,  tossing  her  head. 

"  Yes,  we'll  go  somewhere  else,  but  first  we 
had  better  go  home  and  get  a  note  from  papa. 
Somebody  else  might  ask  for  one,"  returned 
Cricket,  learning  wisdom  by  experience.  "  You 
see,  papa  said  we  could  have  it  if  it  wasn't  a  real 
diamond,  and  it  isn't." 

They  rushed  up  to  the  library  and  to  the 
office,  but  papa  was  still  out,  and  would  not  be 
back  until  dinner-time,  the  waitress  told  them. 
Then  they  went  for  mamma,  but  she  had  not 
returned  either. 

"  Let's  write  a  note  ourselves,"  said  Hilda. 
"  Any  kind  of  a  note  will  do,  I  suppose.  You 
see,  it's  really  ours.  Your  father  said  so." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  is.  What  shall  we  say  ? 
Let's  make  up  something." 


200  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  All  right !  You  take  the  ring,  —  now  give  it 
to  me,  and  I'll  put  in  the  note  that  a  friend  gave 
it  to  me,  and  I  don't  like  it,  or  something,  and 
that  we  want  to  sell  it.  That  will  be  regularly 
story-booky." 

After  much  writing  and  giggling  and  rewrit- 
ing, the  following  note  was  concocted : 

Dear  Sir :  I  received  this  ring  from  a  friend  and  it's 
too  big  for  me,  and  I  send  my  daughter  with  it ;  and 
what  will  you  give  me  for  it  ? 

Your  friend, 

J.  JONES. 

The  "  J.  Jones  "  was  actually  a  flight  of  fancy 
on  Hilda's  part.  She  thought  it  would  be  still 
more  "  story-booky  "  to  sign  an  assumed  name, 
and  Cricket  finally  consented. 

"  It  looks  very  well,"  said  Cricket,  surveying 
the  effusion  with  much  pride,  when  it  was  neatly 
copied  in  Hilda's  pretty  writing  on  mamma's 
best  note  paper.  "And  'J.  Jones'  might  be 
anybody,  you  know.  Oh,  Hilda!  1  hope  we'll 
get  lots  of  money  for  it !  " 

"  We  ought  to.  The  gold  is  worth  a  good 
deal,  I  suppose." 

"  When   we    get    the   money,    we   might    go 


THE    DIAMOND    RING.  201 

straight  down  to  the  bicycle  place,  and  buy  a 
bicycle  right  away,  this  very  day,"  proposed 
Cricket,  with  a  skip  of  delight,  as  the  children 
went  out  again.  "Just  think  of  calmly  walk- 
ing into  the  house  at  dinner-time,  with  a  bicycle 
under  our  arms !  I  mean,  of  course  —  well, 
you  know  what  I  mean." 

"  Wouldn't  everybody  be  surprised  ?  Where 
will  you  keep  your  wheel,  Cricket  ?  " 

"  In  the  basement  hall,  probably.  What 
shall  you  name  yours,  Hilda  ? " 

"  Name  it  ?  "  queried  Hilda. 

u  Yes.  I  don't  see  why  they  shouldn't  be 
named  as  well  as  a  horse.  Don't  you  think 
Angelica  is  a  good  name  ?  Oh,  bicycle,  so  nice 
and  dear!  I  wish  you  were  this  minute  here! 
Why,  that's  a  rhyme,  isn't  it?" 

"  Here's  a  jeweller's,"  said  Hilda,  glancing  at 
the  window  of  a  store  they  were  passing.  "  It 
isn't  very  big,  but  it  looks  pretty  nice." 

A  clerk  with  very  black  hair  and  a  very  big 
nose  came  forward  to  wait  on  them. 

Cricket  produced  the  ring  for  his  inspection. 

"  It  isn't  a  really-truly  diamond,"  she  said, 
lifting  her  honest  eyes  to  his  face,  "  but  we'd  like 
to  sell  it  for  what  it's  worth.  And  here's  a 


202  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

note,"  she  added,  producing  it  with  a  fluttering 
heart.  Would  he  just  say  it  was  a  joke,  and 
not  do  anything  about  it  ?  They  waited  breath- 


"  Not  a  diamond  ?  "  said  the  clerk,  taking  it 
carelessly.  He  urned  it  over  and  looked  at  it 
closely,  glanced  at  the  children,  read  the  note, 
and  then  said : 

"  No,  it  isn't  a  diamond.  I  should  say  not. 
We'll  give  you  —  let  me  see  —  well,  I'll  have  to 
ask  the  boss,"  and  he  went  off. 

"They  always  have  to  ask  somebody.  Oh, 
Hilda,  how  much  do  you  think  they'll  give  ? " 
whispered  Cricket,  eagerly,  squeezing  Hilda's 
hand. 

"  Probably  thirty  dollars,  at  least"  answered 
Hilda,  returning  the  squeeze.  "  Hush !  here  he 
comes." 

"  Boss  says,"  began  the  clerk  deliberately, 
"  that  the  diamond  isn't  real,  but  if  it's  all 
right  about  the  note,"  —  the  children  gasped,  — 
"  that  he  can  allow  you,  well,  as  much  as  seventy- 
five  cents  for  the  ring." 

Two  wide-open  mouths  was  all  the  clerk 
could  see  as  he  glanced  down.  The  children 
were  too  amazed  to  speak  for  a  moment. 


THE    DIAMOND    RING.  203 

"  Seventy -five  cents ! "  faltered  Cricket,  at 
last. 

"  Seventy-five  cents  !  "  echoed  Hilda,  blankly. 

And  they  turned  and  stared  at  each  other,  not 
knowing  what  to  say  next. 

"  Come,  do  you  want  it  ? "  asked  the  clerk, 
yawning.  "  Don't  be  all  night  about  decid- 
ing." 

"Is  —  is  that  all  it's  worth?"  at  last  ven- 
tured Cricket,  her  round  little  face  really  long 
with  the  disappointment. 

"  Really,  now,  that's  a  pretty  liberal  offer," 
said  the  clerk,  assuming  a  confidential  air. 
"  Come,  decide,"  tapping  the  ring  indifferently 
on  the  counter. 

"  Wouldn't  any  one  give  me  any  more  for 
it?"  persisted  Cricket. 

"  Hardly  think  it.  Why,  like  as  not  the  next 
person  you  go  to  might  not  offer  you  a  cent 
more  than  fifty.  We  always  do  things  of  honour 
here.  Liberal  old  bird,  the  boss  is,"  with  a  sly 
wink  that  half  frightened  the  children.  "  High- 
est prices  paid  here  for  second-hand  jewelry. 
Don't  you  see  the  sign  ?"  with  a  backward  wave 
of  his  hand  toward  a  placard  on  the  wall. 

Hilda  and  Cricket  exchanged  glances.     Hilda 


204  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

nodded,  and  Cricket  said,  with  a  sigh  that  canie 
from  her  very  boots  : 

"  Very  well,  we'll  take  the  seventy-five  cents, 
if  that's  all  you  can  give  us  for  it." 

"  Positively  all.  Fortunate  you  came  here,  or 
you  wouldn't  have  gotten  that,"  said  the  clerk, 
counting  out  three  new  quarters  into  Cricket's 
hand. 

"  Shine's  thrown  in,"  he  said,  facetiously,  as 
the  children  soberly  thanked  him  and  walked  out 
of  the  store,  feeling  very  uncomfortable  somehow. 

"  What  a  horrid  man !  "  exclaimed  Cricket,  as 
they  reached  the  sidewalk  and  drew  a  long 
breath.  Wasn't  he  the  most  winkable  creature 
you  ever  saw  ?  I  suppose  he  thought  he  was 
funny." 

"  Greasy  old  thing !  "  returned  Hilda,  both 
children  being  glad  to  vent  their  disappointment 
on  some  convenient  object.  "  His  fingernails 
were  as  black  as  ink." 

But  Cricket  could  not  stay  crushed  long.  In 
a  moment  the  smiles  began  to  creep  up  to  her 
eyes,  and  spill  over  on  to  her  cheeks,  and  finally 
reached  her  mouth. 

"  Oh,  Hilda !  it's  too  funny,"  she  cried,  with 
her  rippling  laugh.  "We  were  going  to  take 


THE    DIAMOND    RIV,.  '205 

our  bicycles  home  under  our  arms  all  so  grand ! 
Shall  we  order  them  to-night?" 

"I'm  just  too  mad  for  anything,"  answered 
Hilda,  whose  sense  of  humour  never  equalled 
Cricket's.  "  Seventy-five  cents !  the  idea !  for 
that  beautiful  gold  ring  !  " 

"I've  another  idea,"  said  Cricket,  stopping 
short  suddenly.  "  It  isn't  worth  putting  seventy- 
five  cents  in  the  bank,  is  it  ?  Let's  stop  at  that 
old  peanut-woman's  stand  and  get  some  peanuts 
with  the  money.  I  think  we'll  get  a  good  many 
for  seventy-five  cents." 

And  they  certainly  did.  The  old  woman 
stared  at  the  munificent  order,  but  began  to 
count  out  bags  with  great  speed,  lest  they 
should  change  their  minds. 

"  Five  cents  a  bag,"  she  said  ;  "  seven  —  eight 
— that  makes  quite  a  many  bags  — nine  —  ten  — 
where  will  I  put  this  ?  —  eleven  —  twelve  —  here, 
little  miss,  tuck  it  in  here, — thirteen  —  can  you 
hold  it  up  here  ?  " 

"  We  have  enough,  I  think,"  said  Cricket, 
rather  amazed  at  the  quantity  of  peanuts  you 
can  get  for  seventy-five  cents. 

"  That  ain't  but  thirteen,  honey.  Here,  put 
this  'un  under  your  arm.  Got  to  go  fur  ?  " 


206  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  Not  very.  Well,  Hilda,  1  never  had  all  tho 
peanuts  I  wanted  at  one  time  before,  I  do  believe. 
I  should  think  these  would  last  a  year.  Oh,  that 
one's  slipping  off !  Fix  it,  please.  Thank  you, 
ever  so  much." 

"  Hollo,  Madame  Van  Twister !  Are  you 
buying  out  the  whole  establishment?"  said 
a  familiar  voice  behind  them,  and  turning  they 
saw  Donald. 

"  I  guess  she's  pretty  glad  to  sell  out,"  said 
Cricket,  seriously.  "  I  know,  for  I  kept  a  pea- 
nut-stand once  in  Marbury ;  the  one  I  was  telling 
you  about,  Hilda.  It  wasn't  much  fun.  It  looks 
so,  but  it  isn't." 

"  Buying  her  out  from  philanthropic  motives  ?" 
queried  Donald. 

"  No,  we've  been  selling  diamond  rings,"  said 
Cricket,  carelessly,  "  and  we  had  a  lot  of  money, 
so  we  thought  we'd  buy  peanuts.  Want  a  bag, 
Don  ?  we  have  plenty." 

"  You're  a  regular  circus,  you  kid,"  laughed 
Donald.  "  Where  do  you  get  your  diamond 
rings  ? " 

Cricket  told  him  the  whole  story.  Donald 
laughed  till  he  had  to  hold  on  -to  the  peanut- 
stand. 


THE    DIAMOND    RING.  207 

"  J.  Jones  !  Well,  you  certainly  showed  great 
originality  in  the  name !  "  he  said.  "  Sorry  I 
can't  escort  you  home,  youngster,  and  carry  a 
few  dozen  of  those  bags  for  you,  but  I'm  due 
elsewhere,"  and  Donald  went  off,  still  laughing. 

If  you  want  to  know  whether  the  family  had 
enough  peanuts,  I  will  simply  remark  that  by 
bedtime,  that  night,  there  were  only  two  bags 
left,  —  and  shells. 

"  After  all,  we  girls  didn't  eat  so  many,"  said 
Cricket,  meditatively.  "  Will  and  Archie  ate 
ten  bags.  I  counted.  Boys  are  so  queer !  The 
more  they  eat,  the  more  they  want." 

Doctor  Ward  was  out  to  dinner,  and  did  not 
hear  the  end  of  the  story  of  the  ring  till  the 
next  day. 

"  Do  you  mean  you  actually  sold  it,  you  little 
Jews  ? "  he  said.  «  Then  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
go  and  buy  it  back." 

"  Papa  !  why,  we've  spent  the  money  !  "  cried 
Cricket,  alarmed.  "  Besides,  you  said  we  could 
have  it,  didn't  you  ?  I  thought  we  could  do 
anything  we  liked  with  it,"  entirely  forgetting 
that  the  proposition  to  sell  it  had  not  come  from 
her. 

"  I  believe  I  did  say  something  about  your 


208  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

having  it  if  we  couldn't  find  an  owner,  or  if  the 
diamond  was  not  real.  However,  I  want  to  be 
sure  on  that  point  for  myself.  Sometimes  mis- 
takes are  made.  I  must  see  about  it." 

"  Suppose  they  won't  sell  it  back,"  suggested 
Cricket,  looking  uncomfortable. 

"  Perhaps  they  won't,  but  1  think  I  can  induce 
them." 

"  But  we  haven't  the  seventy  -  five  cents," 
repeated  Cricket,  piteously,  "  and  we've  eaten 
up  all  the  peanuts,  so  we  can't  send  them  back 
and  get  the  money." 

"  Where  are  the  peanuts,  which  we  got  for  the 
seventy-five  cents,  which  we  got  for  the  diamond 
ring,  which  we  found  on  the  street !  Now,  Miss 
Scricket,  you've  got  to  go  to  jail,"  said  Archie, 
cheerfully.  "  Where  is  the  jail,  which  holds 
Miss  Scricket,  which  ate  the  peanuts,  which  cost 
seventy-five  cents,  which  she  got  for  a  diamond 
ring,  what  belonged  to  somebody  else !  Regular 
House  that  Jack  Built." 

"  You  can  pay  for  the  peanuts  you  ate,  then," 
retorted  Cricket.  "  That  will  be  pretty  nearly 
seventy-five  cents." 

"  That  identical  seventy-five  cents  it  will  not 
be  necessary  to  return,"  said  Doctor  Ward,  pinch- 


THE    DIAMOND    RING.  209 

ing  her  cheek.  "  I'll  supply  the  money,  and 
report  at  luncheon." 

At  luncheon  Doctor  Ward  held  up  the  ring. 

"  I  went,  I  saw,  I  got  the  ring,  after  an  hour's 
hard  work.  I  suspected  it  was  really  a  diamond 
as  soon  as  the  old  Jew  opened  his  lips." 

"  It  is  a  diamond  ? "  cried  every  one,  in 
chorus. 

"  I  won't  keep  you  in  suspicion,  as  Cricket 
used  to  say.  It  is  a  diamond,  though  not  of 
the  first  water.  The  old  fellow  first  pretended 
he  knew  nothing  about  the  matter.  I  had  the 
clerks  called  up.  He  only  had  two.  One  of 
them  —  " 

"  Did  he  have  a  big  nose  ?  "  interrupted  Cricket, 
eagerly. 

"And  greasy  hair  and  black  finger-nails?" 
added  Hilda. 

"  All  those,"  said  Doctor  Ward.  «  Well,  it 
took  an  hour,  but  finally  I  got  it  back.  Then  I 
took  it  to  Spencer's  —  " 

"The  very  place  we  went  to,"  interrupted 
Cricket  again." 

"  Yes,  and  I  happened  to  see  the  very  clerk. 
The  moment  I  held  it  out  he  looked  surprised  ; 
I  told  him  I  wanted  it  tested,  —  not  merely 


210  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

glanced  at.  He  took  it  off,  and  came  back, 
presently,  looking  very  sheepish,  and  told  me,  as 
I  said  before,  that  it  is  a  diamond,  though  not  a 
very  valuable  one  for  its  size." 

"  Why  didn't  he  look  at  it  more  carefully  at 
first?"  asked  Mrs.  Ward. 

"  He  said  something  about  thinking  it  was  a 
joke  that  the  children  were  putting  up,  and  — 

"  As  if  we  would  put  up  a  joke  on  a  perfect 
stranger ! "  cried  Cricket,  indignantly. 

"  Of  course  not,  pet,  but  he  didn't  know  that. 
It  was  no  excuse  for  him,  though.  He  should 
have  given  it  the  proper  attention.  However, 
we  have  the  ring  safe  now,  after  all  its  adven- 
tures, and  we'll  advertise  it." 

"  Papa,"  asked  Cricket,  dimpling  suddenly, 
"If  nobody  ever  claims  it,  may  I  have  it  for 
my  own,  —  not  to  sell  it,  I  mean, —  but  just  to 
wear  it  when  I'm  grown-up  ? " 

"  Can't  promise.  You'd  probably  pawn  it 
the  first  time  you  wanted  peanuts,"  teased  Doc- 
tor Ward. 

That  was  several  years  ago,  but  the  ring,  which 
is  still  in  mamma's  jewel-box,  is  now  called 
Cricket's. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SCHOOL    THEATRICALS. 

IT  seemed  very  lonely  the  next  day,  when 
Edith  and  Hilda  had  gone.  The  spare  room 
was  shorn  of  its  two  cots,  and  was  restored  to  its 
usual  dainty  order.  Will  and  Archie  left  also, 
as  their  school  began  the  next  Monday,  and 
they  went  to  board,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
their  house,  till  Edna  was  sufficiently  recovered 
for  them  to  be  at  home.  She  had  had  a  very 
light  attack  of  scarlet  fever,  fortunately,  and  was 
already  improving.  As  soon  as  the  boys  left, 
Eunice  and  Cricket  returned  to  their  own  do- 
mains. College  opened  and  Don  was  off.  On 
Tuesday,  the  girls'  school,  St.  Agatha's,  was  in 
session  again,  so  now  they  all  settled  down  to 
the  busy  time  that  lies  between  Christmas  and 
Easter. 

At  the  close  of  the  half-year  at  St.  Agatha's, 
early  in  February,  came  the  great  excitement  of 
the  year.  This  was  an  exhibition,  consisting  of 


212  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

a  play,  given  in  French  by  some  of  the  older 
girls,  and  a  short  play  in  English  by  some  of 
the  children  in  the  junior  department.  As  only 
the  girls  whose  scholarship  was  high,  and  de- 
portment uniformly  good,  were  allowed  to  take 
part  in  the  plays,  of  course  it  was  one  of  the 
chief  honours  of  the  year  to  be  selected.  The 
announcement  of  the  favoured  girls  was  eagerly 
awaited. 

The  French  play  was  learned  as  class  work 
during  the  fall  term  by  all  the  senior  girls  in 
the  French  classes.  The  list  of  those  chosen  to 
give  the  plays  was  read  on  the  first  day  of  school 
after  the  Christmas  holidays. 

Much  rehearsing  and  genuine  hard  work  on 
the  part  of  the  actors,  as  well  as  of  the  teachers, 
went  into  this  yearly  exhibition,  but  the  honour 
paid  for  all  the  extra  hours,  and  the  names  of 
the  girls  who  took  the  parts  were  preserved  in 
the  school  year-book. 

As  Marjorie  had  been  in  the  French  play  the 
year  before,  she  could  not  be  in  it  again,  this 
year,  although  her  marks  were  well  up.  Since 
Kimice  and  Cricket  had  only  entered  St.  Agatha's 
tins  year,  they  never  thought  of  the  possibility 
of  either  of  them  being  in  the  play.  Therefore 


SCHOOL    THEATRICALS.  '218 

you  can  imagine  Eunice's  blank  amazement 
when  her  name  was  read  among  the  others  : 

"  Miss  Eunice  Ward  is  assigned  the  part  of 
Sallie,  the  maid." 

"Eunice?"  said  Cricket,  right  out  loud,  her 
eyes  shining  like  two  stars.  "  Oh,  do  you  think 
she  can?" 

Apparently  Eunice's  teachers  thought  she 
could,  for  they  had  given  her  the  very  good  part 
of  a  little  housemaid.  The  "  cast "  were  re- 
quested to  wait  after  school,  to  be  given  their 
books  and  be  instructed  in  their  parts. 

Cricket  was  on  tiptoe  with  excitement  when 
Eunice  came  home,  trying  to  look  unconcerned 
and  every-day-ish.  Cricket  flew  at  her  with  a 
little  shriek  of  delight,  and  squeezed  her  eagerly. 

'<  Eunice  !  Eunice  !  think  of  your  being  given 
a  part  in  a  real  play!  What  will  you  wear? 
Will  it  be  hard  to  learn?  When  do  you  have 
to  know  it  ?  Do  they  begin  rehearsing  soon  ? 
Could  I  go  to  the  rehearsals,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  everything  yet,  Cricket.  I 
don't  know  what  I'm  to  wear.  We  must  know 
our  parts  perfectly  in  one  week,  and  next  Tues- 
day will  be  our  first  ivbcarsal.  I  don't  know 
about  their  letting  you  in,  but  I'm  afraid  they 


214  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

won't.  I  don't  think  the)7  let  anybody  be  there 
but  Miss  Raymond  and  Miss  Emmet,  and  us 
actors,"  with  supreme  importance. 

"  How  horrid !  I'll  just  go  somewhere  and 
peek,  then.  I  must  see  you." 

"I'll  ask  Miss  Emmet  if  you  can't  come, 
though.  She  knows  we  are  always  together. 
But,  you  see,  if  they  let  in  one  outside  girl, 
any  number  may  want  to  come  in,"  said  Eunice, 
wisely. 

"  That's  so,"  said  Cricket,  with  a  sigh.  "You 
tell  them  I'll  make  myself  very  small  and  not 
get  in  anybody's  way.  Where's  your  book  ?  " 

"  Here  it  is.     Sallie  is  my  part,  you  know." 

Cricket  took  the  book  and  dropped  down  on 
the  window-seat. 

"  Isn't  this  delicious?  '  Curtain  rising,  dis- 
closes Sallie  dusting.'  Oh,  what  cunning  little 
short  sentences  you  have  to  say ! "  After  a 
moment's  silence  :  "  Eunice,  this  won't  be  any- 
thing to  learn.  I  just  about  know  the  first  page 
already,"  and  Cricket  rattled  it  off. 

For  a  week  the  family  had  to  lunch  and  dine 
on  the  famous  play.  A  stranger  could  not  have 
told  which  was  to  take  part,  Eunice  or  Cricket, 
for  the  two  knew  it  equally  well.  Indeed,  in 


SCHOOL    TIIKATKK  ALS.  215 

a  week's  time,  Cricket  knew  the  whole  play  by 
heart,  from  reading  the  other  characters,  when 
she  was  hearing  Knnice.  The  play  was  short, 
of  course,  only  being  about  twenty-five  minutes 
in  length.  The  children  declaimed  it  on  the 
stairs ;  they  spouted  it  in  the  parlour  after 
dinner,  and  they  interlarded  their  conversation 
with  quotations  from  it.  They  talked  profes- 
sionally of  entrances  and  exits,  of  wings  and 
flies  and  scenery  and  cues,  till  their  long-suffer- 
ing family  protested  in  a  body. 

Eunice  had  a  private  interview  with  Miss 
Emmet,  the  principal,  regarding  Cricket's  pres- 
ence at  the  rehearsals.  At  first  Miss  Emmet 
said  positively,  as  Eunice  had  feared  she  would, 
that  it  was  against  the  rules  for  any  one  to  be 
present  save  herself  and  the  teacher  who  drilled 
the  girls.  But  Eunice's  pleading  face,  as  she 
urged  that  she  and  Cricket  were  always  to- 
gether in  everything,  and  she  could  do  it  so 
much  better  if  Cricket  were  there,  because  she 
could  rehearse  it  with  her  at  home,  finally  made 
Miss  Emmet  say,  smiling  : 

"  Well,  my  dear,  on  second  thoughts,  we'll 
admit  Jean.  Only  please  do  not  tell  the  girls 
that  you  asked  for  her  to  be  present." 


216  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

Eunice  promised,  radiantly,  and  flew  off  to 
Cricket  with  the  coveted  permission. 

The  rehearsals  went  on  swimmingly  for  a 
time.  Then,  after  the  novelty  was  over,  the 
little  actors  began  to  realise  that  the  extra 
time  required  of  them  interfered,  now  and  then, 
with  their  own  plans  for  amusement.  There 
began  to  be  absences  from  rehearsals.  The 
rehearsals  themselves  began  to  be  a  bore,  for 
any  one  who  has  ever  trained  children  for  any 
exhibition  knows  the  tiresome  repetition  of 
scenes  and  sentences  that  is  necessary  to  ensure 
success  in  the  simplest  performance. 

Eunice  and  Cricket  felt  it,  with  the  others. 
They  wanted  to  go  skating,  to  go  down-town 
with  mammS,  or  made  plans  with  their  school- 
mates, only  to  remember,  at  the  last  minute, 
that  there  was  a  rehearsal  that  afternoon. 

Eunice  was  very  faithful,  however,  for  her 
mother  would  not  permit  anything  to  interfere 
with  these  rehearsals.  Cricket,  of  course,  was 
free,  but,  as  her  father  said,  she  would  "  never 
desert  Mr.  Micawber." 

"  No ;  you  agreed  to  take  a  part  in  the  play, 
dear,"  said  mamma  firmly,  when  the  children 
begged  to  "  cut  just  once,  for  the  other  girls  did 


SCHOOL    THEATRICALS.  217 

sometimes,"  since  something  unusual  had  come 
up ;  "  what  you  agreed  to  do,  you  must  do,  at 
any  cost  of  inconvenience  or  disappointment  to 
yourself.  No  amusements,  of  any  kind,  must 
prevent  your  being  punctual  at  every  rehearsal." 

k'  Just  sometimes,  mamma,"  begged  Eunice. 

"  Not  even  once.  Your  teachers  are  taking- 
all  this  trouble  for  your  benefit,  and  the  least 
you  can  do  is  to  be  depended  upon  for  your 
punctual  presence.  You  know  how  provoking 
you  say  it  is  when  any  one  is  absent,  and  how 
badly  the  rehearsal  goes  on  then." 

"  That's  so ;  like  a  chicken  on  one  leg," 
said  Cricket,  thoughtfully.  "  Everything  hitches. 
But  1  do  wish  I  were  in  the  play.  I  know  all 
Isabel  Fleming's  part  much  better  than  she  does. 
Miss  Raymond  scolds  her  all  the  time." 

"  How  did  she  get  in  if  she  is  stupid  ? " 
asked  Marjorie. 

"  She  isn't  stupid.  I  believe  she's  lazy.  She 
just  stumbles  along,  and  it  makes  me  so  mad 
when  she  gets  all  mixed  up  in  her  best  speeches. 
There's  one  part,  with  Eunice,  that  she  spoils 
entirely,  every  time.  That  about  the  bonnet, 
Eunice,  when  you  come  in  and  find  her  trying 
it  on.  She's  all  alone  before  the  glass  first,  and 


218  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

she  has  some  awfully  funny  things  to  say,  and 
she  just  forgets  half  of  them,  every  time." 

"  You  do  it  lots  better,  Cricket,"  said  Eunice. 
"  She  really  does,  mamma.  She's  practised  it 
with  me,  you  know,  up-stairs.  Let's  do  it  now, 
Cricket." 

And  Cricket,  nothing  loath,  jumped  up,  and 
the  children  went  through  the  scene.  Cricket 
was  always  such  an  enthusiastic  little  soul  about 
everything  she  did,  that  she  made  herself  liter- 
ally the  character  she  was  acting. 

"  Oh,  I'm  just  pining  away  to  be  in  the  play," 
she  said,  sinking  down  on  a  couch  and  fanning 
herself,  amid  the  applause  of  the  family. 

"  You  look  pretty  healthy  for  one  who  is  in 
that  state,"  said  Doctor  Ward. 

They  were  all  in  the  parlour  for  the  jolly  half- 
hour  after  dinner. 

"I  don't  show  it  much,  I  suppose,"  said 
Cricket  thoughtfully,  "  but,  really,  it  just  pines 
inside  all  the  time." 

"Do  you  remember,  mamma,"  put  in  Mar- 
jorie,  "  how  Eunice,  when  she  was  a  little  thing, 
used  to  like  to  sit  up  at  the  piano  and  sing,  and 
pretend  to  play  her  accompaniments  ?  There 
was  one  particular  song  she  always  tried.  It 


SCHOOL    THEATRICALS.  219 

had  a  chorus,  «  Maggie,  dear  Maggie,  I'm  pin- 
ning for  thee ! '  as  Eunice  used  to  say  it.  Cricket 
might  sing  now,  'Oh,  Nancy,  dear  Nancy,  I'm 
pining  for  thee  ! ' " 

"  By  the  way,  what  is  that  ghostly  song  you 
are  so  fond  of  singing  about  the  house,  Mar- 
jorie  ? "  asked  Doctor  Ward,  looking  up  from  his 
evening  paper.  "  I  only  can  make  out  the 
chorus,  '  Repack,  repack,  repack  my  body  to 
me,  —  to  me.' " 

There  was  a  shout  of  laughter  that  nearly 
drowned  Marjorie's  astonished  protest  that  she 
never  sang  anything  so  sepulchral. 

"  You  certainly  do,  often,"  insisted  Doctor 
Ward.  "  This  very  afternoon,  not  long  before  din- 
ner, I  heard  you  and  two  or  three  of  your  friends, 
in  the  music-room,  singing,  and  one  of  the  things 
you  sang  was  that  very  song,  only  you  sang  it 
this  way  :  «  Repack  my  body  to  me,  —  same  old 
body." 

There  was  another  shout. 

"Oh,  papa,  you  funny!"  cried  Marjorie. 
"  It  isn't  body  at  all.  It's  '  Bring  back  my 
Bonny  to  me.'  It's  a  girl's  name.  The  first 
line  is,  *  My  Bonny  lies  over  the  ocean  ! ' " 

"That's  it,"    said   the  doctor.     "When   you 


220  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

sang,  '  My  body  lies  over  the  ocean,'  I  thought 
it  was  a  strange  thing  to  mislay." 

Whereupon  Marjorie  went  to  the  piano  and 
insisted  on  playing  the  whole  thing  through, 
and  having  Eunice  join  her  in  singing  it. 

The  next  rehearsal  day,  Eunice  and  Cricket 
were  promptly  on  hand.  Presently  all  the  girls 
were  there  but  Isabel  Fleming.  Miss  Raymond, 
the  elocution  teacher,  came  in,  herself,  at  the 
last  moment. 

"  I  was  unexpectedly  detained.  All  here  ?  Isa- 
bel Fleming  isn't  missing  again  to-day,  is  she  ? 
What  a  provoking  child!  This  is  the  third 
time  she  has  been  absent,  and  she  really  needs 
more  drill  than  any  one  of  you,  for  she  is  so 
careless.'1  Miss  Raymond's  black  eyes  snapped 
impatiently,  and  the  girls  were  glad  they  were 
not  the  delinquent  Isabel.  "  Wouldn't  she  catch 
it  the  next  day  ? "  the  girls'  silent  exchange  of 
glances  said. 

"  Here  /  leave  pressing  work  to  come  here 
and  drill  you,  for  your  own  benefit  and  advan- 
tage, outside  of  school  hours,"  went  on  Miss 
Raymond,  indignantly  ;  "  I  often  give  up  engage- 
ments that  I  wish  to  make,  for  ungrateful  girls 
who  are  not  even  responsible  for  what  they 


SCHOOL    THEATRICALS.  221 

undertake.  You  ought  to  be  as  ashamed  to 
break  an  engagement  as  you  would  be  to  tell 
a  lie." 

"  That  is  very  true,"  said  Miss  Emmet  quietly. 
"  However,  we  won't  scold  the  girls  who  are 
here,  on  account  of  those  who  are  not.  I  will 
see  Isabel  to-morrow." 

"  They  all  need  a  talking-to,  though,"  cried 
irate  Miss  Raymond.  "  They  all  happen  to  be 
here  to-day;  but  I  believe  every  one  of  them 
has  missed  rehearsals,  with  the  exception  of 
Eunice  Ward." 

"  Mamma  won't  let  me,"  said  Eunice  honestly. 

"  Your  mother's  a  sensible  woman,  then,"  said 
Miss  Raymond.  "  Now,  Miss  Emmet,  what  are 
we  to  do  ?  It  spoils  the  play  so,  to  have  me 
read  Isabel's  part.  I  can't  drill  them  properly, 
and  they  don't  do  justice  to  their  own  parts." 

"  If  you  like,  Miss  Emmet,  I  will  take  Isabel's 
part,"  said  Cricket,  in  her  bright,  unconscious 
way,  after  a  telegraphic  despatch  to  Eunice, 
with  her  eyebrows. 

"  But  you  don't  know  it,  child,  and  it's  the 
reading  it  at  all  that  I  object  to.  Not  acting 
it,  puts  the  others  out,"  said  Miss  Raymond, 
pulling  off  her  gloves. 


222  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  I  mean,  I  can  say  it,"  explained  Cricket. 
"  1  can't  act  it  very  well,  of  course,  but  perhaps 
it  would  do.  I  know  all  the  part." 

"  Do  you  ?  Well,  then,  you  can  try  it.  It 
won't  be  worse,  at  any  rate,  than  my  reading 
it,  and  keeping  my  eye  on  the  girls  at  the  same 
time.  Stand  here,  and  be  ready  for  your 
cue." 

The  speech  was  ungracious,  for  Miss  Ray- 
mond was  always  sharp-tongued,  but  she  patted 
Cricket's  cheek,  approvingly. 

The  rehearsal  began.  Cricket  was  excited, 
but  she  had  her  wits  about  her,  for  this  work 
was  what  she  loved. 

"  You  are  doing  very  well,  child,"  said  Miss 
Raymond,  when  she  went  off  the  stage.  Cricket 
was  so  eager  to  fill  in  just  right,  that  she  never 
thought  of  herself.  The  little  play  was  re- 
hearsed twice  through,  and  the  second  time 
Cricket  did  still  better.  Of  course  not  as  well 
as  the  girls  who  had  been  drilling  for  two  weeks 
already,  for  she  did  not  always  get  the  right 
position  on  the  stage,  sometimes  turned  her 
back  to  the  imaginary  audience,  did  not  leave 
at  the  right  moment,  every  time,  and  never 
spoke  loud  enough. 


SCHOOL    THEATRICALS.  223 

Nevertheless,  on  the  whole,  the  rehearsal  was 
very  satisfactory. 

Miss  Raymond  said  a  few  words  to  Miss 
Emmet  while  the  children  were  resting.  Miss 
Emmet  nodded  assent.  When  the  girls  were 
leaving,  Miss  Emmet  detained  Eunice  and 
Cricket  a  moment. 

"  Miss  Raymond  and  I  spoke  of  replacing 
Isabel  Fleming  two  or  three  days  ago,"  she  said. 
"  I  told  her,  the  last  time  she  was  absent,  that  I 
should  fill  her  place  if  she  failed  again.  Now, 
Jean,  I  wish  you  would  ask  your  mother  if  she 
has  any  objection  to  your  taking  the  part  of 
Nancy.  You  know  the  part  already,  and  we 
can  soon  train  you  in  the  acting." 

Cricket's  eyes  grew  bigger  and  bigger.  To 
act  a  part  in  that  wonderful  play ! 

"Will  your  mother  permit  her,  do  you 
think  ? "  Miss  Emmet  asked  Eunice.  "  Jean 
is  rather  younger  than  the  girls  are  when  they 
first  take  part,  usually,  but  I  think  she  will  do." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  think  mamma  will  be  will- 
ing," beamed  Eunice. 

"I  come  to  all  the  rehearsals  now,"  said 
Cricket,  eagerly,  "  and  I  know  the  part  perfectly, 
and  I  am  sure  mamma  will  let  me." 


224  EUNICE   AND   CRICKET. 

The  girls  almost  danced  down  the  street. 

"  I'd  rehearse  every  day  in  the  week,  and  all 
night  too,"  said  Cricket,  fervently,  to  mamma, 
when  the  latter  warned  her  again  that  she 
must  not  let  anything  interfere  with  rehearsing. 
"  We  will  not  ask  to  shirk  it  once,  no  matter 
what  we  want  to  do." 

"  That's  the  only  condition  you  can  undertake 
it  on,"  said  mamma.  "  If  you  do  it  at  all,  you 
must  do  it  thoroughly,  you  know." 

The  condition  seemed  a  very  small  one  to  the 
children,  as  only  a  week  remained  before  the 
eventful  Friday  night.  The  rehearsals  were 
never  more  than  an  hour  long,  and  generally 
not  more  than  three-quarters  of  an  hour  at  a 
time,  but  they  came  every  other  day. 

It  was  Monday  afternoon, — the  Monday  before 
the  play.  A  rehearsal  was  appointed  for  three 
o'clock.  As  the  girls  came  out  into  the  street 
from  school,  one  of  their  friends  joined  them,  beg- 
ging them  to  come  and  see  her  in  the  afternoon. 
Her  mother,  she  said,  had  just  come  home  from 
New  York,  and  brought  her  many  pretty  things, 
as  well  as  a  great  box  of  Huyler's  candy.  She 
wanted  Eunice  and  Cricket  to  see  the  things 
and  help  eat  the  candy.  Eunice,  remembering 


SCHOOL    THEATRICAL^.  225 

the  rehearsal,  said  no  very  firmly,  though  her 
resolution  was  somewhat  shaken  when  she 
learned  that  most  of  the  candy  was  chocolate. 

"  It's  so  far  over  there  that  we  wouldn't  have 
time  to  come  before  rehearsal,  but  we  might  go 
over  at  four,  couldn't  we,  Eunice?"  asked 
Cricket,  hopefully. 

"  Oh,  how  provoking !  You  see,  I  have  a 
music  lesson  at  four,  and  Mr.  Schwarz  is  so 
cross  if  I'm  a  minute  late ;  and  I  know  there 
won't  be  anything  left  of  that  candy  to  offer 
you,  after  the  children  get  hold  of  it.  Can't  you 
skip  rehearsal,  just  once  ?  "  • 

"  No,  we've  engaged  not  to,"  said  Eunice. 
"  It  would  be  nice,  but  we  mustn't,  Elsie. 
Good-bye.  Cricket,  we'll  be  late  to  luncheon 
if  we  don't  hurry." 

It  chanced  that  mamma  had  an  engagement 
at  the  dentist's,  and  had  to  hurry  away  from  the 
luncheon  table. 

"  And  I  shan't  be  home  till  late  in  the  after- 
noon, girls,"  she  added,  "  for,  after  I  leave  the 
dentist,  I  have  several  people  to  see  on  Guild 
business.  Be  prompt  with  Miss  Raymond,  my 
little  maids,  and  do  well." 

She  was  hardly  out  of  sight  when  a  group  of 


226  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

little  school  friends  trooped  up  the  steps.  Eunice 
and  Cricket,  standing  in  the  window,  saw  them 
coming,  and  flew  down  to  the  hall  to  meet  them. 

"  Get  your  things  on  right  away,"  they  cried, 
in  a  chorus.  "  They  say  there  is  splendid  skat- 
ing on  the  lake,  and  we're  all  going  out  there. 
It  will  probably  be  gone  by  to-morrow,  they  say. 
Do  hurry,  girls  !  " 

"Oh,  jolly!"  cried  Cricket,  flying  away. 
Then  she  stopped  short,  and  looked  at  Eunice. 

"  We  can't  go,  girls,"  said  Eunice,  soberly. 
"We  have  rehearsal  at  three." 

"Oh,  cut  for  once !  All  the  girls  have  cut 
sometime,  you  know.  You  can't  be  there 


"  It's  such  a  nuisance  when  everybody  isn't 
there,  though.  But  I'm  just  dying  for  a  skate," 
said  Cricket,  wistfully.  "  How  I  wish  we  could 
go!" 

"  Come,  do  cut,"  some  one  urged..  "  Let  Miss 
Raymond  scold.  Ask  your  mother.  She'll  let 
you."  Eunice  wavered.  Wouldn't  mamma  let 
her  if  she  only  knew  about  this  ?  Such  a  very 
special  occasion !  They  had  been  so  very  punc- 
tual and  regular,  —  not  a  single  time  had  they 
missed  rehearsal,  and  they  knew  their  parts 


SCHOOL    THEATRICALS.  227 

perfectly.  Indeed,  this  was  an  extra  rehearsal, 
appointed  for  the  special  benefit  of  some  girl 
who  had  been  absent  twice.  Could  not  they  let 
it  go  for  once  ?  Eunice  and  Cricket  looked  at 
each  other  wistfully. 

"  I  believe  —  "  began  Eunice,  slowly. 

"  Oh,  goody  !  fly  up-stairs  fast,  and  get  your 
things  on.  It's  getting  awfully  late,  now,  to  get 
off." 

Eunice  still  hesitated;  then  she  suddenly 
braced  herself. 

"  No,"  she  said,  backing  off,  with  her  hands 
behind  her  back,  as  though  there  were  some- 
thing she  was  forbidden  to  touch.  Then  she 
spoke  very  fast,  lest  her  determination  should 
waver  again. 

"  We  can't  possibly  go.  We've  promised 
mamma  we  wouldn't  shirk  once,  no  matter 
what  came  up,  and  we  can't.  We're  awfully 
sorry,  but  we  can't.  You  go  on,  girls.  It's 
getting  late." 

It  certainly  required  much  resolution  to  say 
this,  in  the  face  of  those  glittering  skates  and 
beseeching  eyes,  but  Eunice's  tone  was  so  firm 
that  the  girls  wasted  no  further  coaxing,  and 
went  off  with  many  an  expression  of  regret. 


228  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

Eunice  and  Cricket  each  drew  a  long  breath, 
and  looked  at  each  other  resignedly. 

"  Now  let's  get  ready  to  go  straight  off  be- 
fore anything  else  happens,"  said  Eunice,  with 
asumed  briskness. 

"  I  don't  feel  as  if  the  self-denying  part  of  me 
could  do  that  again.  It's  most  worn  out,"  said 
Cricket,  mournfully,  as  they  went  up-stairs. 
"  Think !  the  skating  will  surely  be  gone  to- 
morrow !  It  never  lasts  but  two  or  three  days." 

As  they  finally  shut  the  front  door  behind 
them  and  went  down  the  steps,  Mrs.  Dray  ton's 
carriage  drew  up  before  the  house,  and  Emily's 
eager  head  popped  itself  forward. 

"  Girls !  girls !  where  are  you  going  ?  I'm  so 
glad  I'm  in  time  to  catch  you.  I  want  you  to 
go  for  a  drive." 

"Oh,  Emily!"  cried  Eunice,  despairingly. 
"  Don't  say  one  word  about  anything.  I'm  just 
about  crazy !  Everything  nice  is  happening 
this  afternoon,  when  we've  just  got  to  go  to 
rehearsal." 

'•'•Must  you  go  ?"  said  Emily,  disappointedly. 
"  I'd  made  up  my  mind  to  have  a  nice,  long 
drive.  I've  had  such  a  cold  that  I  have  not 
been  out  for  a  week,  but  to-day  is  so  clear  and 


SCHOOL    THEATRICALS.  229 

bright  that  mamma  said  I  might  come  out  and 
get  you  both,  and  I  want  you  so  much !" 

"I'm  just  as  much  disappointed  as  you, 
Emily,"  sighed  Eunice.  "  I'm  tired  to  death  of 
rehearsals,  but  we  must  go,  because  we  promised 
mamma  we  wouldn't  shirk." 

"  You  can  get  some  one  else  to  go  with  you, 
Emily,"  said  Cricket,  who  had  waited,  younger- 
sister  fashion,  for  Eunice  to  decide  the  matter. 

"  Of  course  I  can  get  plenty  of  people,"  said 
Emily,  petulantly ;  "  but  I  want  you.  Oh,  do 
come !  We'll  stop  at  the  school  and  say  I 
wouldn't  let  you  get  out." 

Emily  was  very  used  to  having  her  own  way. 
Eunice  opened  her  eyes  wide. 

"  Oh,  we  couldn't  tell  Miss  Raymond  that !  " 
she  exclaimed,  in  great  surprise.  "  Please  don't 
coax,  Emily.  It  makes  it  so  hard." 

"  There's  three  o'clock  now,"  put  in  Cricket, 
as  the  hour  struck  from  a  neighbouring  tower. 
"  Rehearsal  is  at  three,  and  we've  never  been 
late  before." 

Emily  looked  ready  to  cry. 

"  It's  too  bad  of  you.  You  might  come  if 
you  wanted  to.  You'd  rather  go  to  a  mean  old  re- 
hearsal than  come  with  me.  I  know  you  would." 


230  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

"Emily,  how  silly!"  cried  Cricket,  in  de- 
spair. "  As  if  we  wouldn't  rather  go  with  you 
a  billion  times,  —  yes,  a  virgintillion.  Don't 
you  see?  We've  promised."" 

"Please  don't  be  cross  about  it,"  begged 
Eunice.  "  You  can  get  somebody  and  have 
a  lovely  drive,  and  we  have  to  miss  everything 
and  be  scolded  for  being  late,  besides.  We 
must  go,  Cricket,  or  we'll  have  our  heads  taken 
off."  And  Eunice,  as  she  spoke,  sprang  up  on 
the  carriage  steps  and  kissed  her  little  friend, 
coaxingly. 

Emily  sighed. 

"  Can  you  drive  to-morrow  then  ?  I'll  come 
early." 

"  If  we  don't  have  rehearsal.  We'll  ride  with 
you  now  as  far  as  the  school,  if  you'll  take  us." 

"  All  this  trial  and  temptation,"  sighed  Cricket, 
soberly,  as  they  went  up  the  school  steps,  "and 
probably  being  scolded  for  being  late  into  the 
bargain." 

Fortunately,  however,  when  they  reached  the 
room,  Miss  Raymond  herself  was  late,  having 
been  detained  by  some  lesson.  All  the  girls 
were  already  there,  and  soon  they  were  at 
work. 


SCHOOL    THEATRICALS.  231 

"  This  has  been  a  thoroughly  satisfactory 
rehearsal,"  said  Miss  Raymond,  with  unusual 
cordiality.  "  Everybody  is  on  hand,  and  you've 
all  done  well.  I  thought  last  Saturday  you 
would  have  to  rehearse  every  day  this  week, 
but  now  we  will  do  no  more  till  the  dress- 
rehearsal  on  Thursday.  You've  done  splen- 
didly." 

Praise  from  Miss  Raymond  was  so  rare  that 
the  girls  beamed. 

"  Isn't  it  fortunate  that  we  didn't  cut  ?  "  said 
Eunice,  as  they  went  homewards.  "  Now  we  can 
go  to-morrow  with  a  clear  conscience,  and  this 
afternoon  we  would  have  felt  guilty  all  the 
time." 

"  Yes,  and  had  to  rehearse  to-morrow,  too,  if 
we'd  cut  this  afternoon." 

The  eventful  Friday  evening  arrived  in  due 
course  of  time,  and  an  enthusiastic  and  expec- 
tant audience  crowded  the  schoolroom  at  St. 
Agatha's.  The  juniors'  play  was  first  on  the 
programme.  Eunice,  in  her  part  of  maid,  was 
very  taking  in  her  becoming  costume,  with  its 
little  mob-cap  and  jaunty  apron.  Cricket,  as 
saucy  Nancy,  who  was  always  listening  behind 
doors,  and  getting  into  trouble,  made  a  decided 


232  EUNICE    AND    CKICKET. 

hit.  The  other  girls  were  all  so  good  in  their 
parts  that  it  was  hard  to  say,  after  all,  which 
was  best.  Everything  went  smoothly,  as  it  should 
with  a  well-trained,  well-disciplined  set  of  girls. 
The  French  play  was  beautifully  given  by  the 
seniors. 

The  programme  closed  with  some  pretty  drills 
and  marches,  for  which  they  had  been  trained 
by  their  teacher  of  physical  culture,  as  part  of 
their  school  work.  For  this  they  had  had  no 
other  preparation  than  their  regular  daily  half- 
hour  in  the  gymnasium. 

"All  this  means  much  work  on  your  part, 
Miss  Emmet,"  Mrs.  Ward  said,  appreciatively,  to 
the  head  of  the  school,  as  people  were  congratu- 
lating her  on  her  beautifully  trained  girls. 

"  And  much  on  the  girls'  part,  as  well," 
answered  Miss  Emmet,  cordially.  "  They  learn 
many  valuable  lessons,  during  the  time  we 
take  to  prepare  all  this,  besides  their  school 
work." 

"  Certainly  lessons  in  self-denial  and  persist- 
ency and  promptness,"  said  Mrs.  Ward,  smiling. 
"  My  little  girls  have  certainly  learned  the  neces- 
sity of  keeping  engagements,  no  matter  what 
more  interesting  things  come  up."  And  she 


SCHOOL    THEATRICALS.  233 

told  Miss  Emmet  of  the  Monday  before,  and  its 
accumulation  of  disappointments. 

Miss  Emmet  laughed,  but  she  looked  sympa- 
thising, also. 

"  That's  exactly  what  I  mean.  It  all  goes 
into  character-building." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A   DAY   IN   THE   NURSERY. 

HAVE  I  said  that  George  Washington  —  and, 
of  course,  Martha  —  had  accompanied  the  chil- 
dren to  town  when  they  returned  home  ?  He 
became  as  much  an  institution  at  No.  25  — 
Street  as  at  Marbury.  He  had  his  apartments 
in  the  nursery,  and  behaved  himself  very  haugh- 
tily to  the  kitchen  cat,  when  the  latter  was  occa- 
sionally brought  up  from  the  regions  below  for 
a  visit. 

George  Washington  had  grown  up  to  be  a  big, 
black,  lustrous  creature,  with  emerald  eyes,  and 
a  bit  of  white  fur  under  his  chin,  just  like  a 
cravat.  The  boys  called  him  the  bishop  for  his 
stateliness.  He  no  longer  played  with  Martha, 
nor  chased  her  around.  Unmolested,  she  waved 
proudly  over  his  back  in  a  stately  curve. 

George  Washington  was  moderately  obedient, 
but  went  his  own  way  just  often  enough  to  assert 
his  perfect  independence.  He  submitted  with 


A   DAY    IN    THE    NURSERY.  235 

quiet  dignity  to  the  many  performances  that  the 
children  put  him  through,  yet  if  they  went  a  step 
too  far,  he  would  look  at  them  so  severely  with  his 
emerald  eyes  that  the  mere  glance  would  immedi- 
ately make  them  change  their  minds  and  pretend 
they  meant  something  altogether  different. 

Thursday  was  Eliza's  afternoon  out.  On  this 
particular  Thursday,  Marjorie  was  left  in  charge 
of  the  nursery.  Mamma  was  obliged  to  attend 
some  important  club  meeting,  and  Eunice  and 
Cricket  had  gone  to  see  Emily  Drayton.  It 
was  a  damp,  drizzling  day,  so  that  the  little 
nursery  people  could  not  get  their  usual  walk, 
and  they  all  missed  it.  Zaidie,  particularly, 
was  always  very  dependent  upon  the  out  of-door 
exercise,  which  her  vigorous  little  body  needed. 

Marjorie,  who  often  took  charge  of  the  nurs- 
ery in  Eliza's  off-days,  sat  reading  by  the  broad 
window,  curled  up  on  the  window-seat,  while  the 
children  played  about  the  room.  As  they  were 
always  used  to  entertaining  themselves,  and  were 
usually  left,  as  far  as  possible,  to  their  own  de- 
vices, the  person  in  charge  only  needed  to  keep 
a  general  oversight. 

The  twins  were  playing  church,  which  was 
one  of  their  favourite  amusements.  George 


236  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

Washington  was  the  minister.  He  was  clad 
in  a  doll's  petticoat,  fastened  about  his  neck 
for  a  surplice,  and  a  black  ribbon  for  a  stole. 
He  was  sitting  up  in  state  behind  a  pile  of 
books  that  served  for  a  lectern.  He  knew  his 
part  perfectly,  and  sat  as  still  as  any  bishop. 
By  pinching  his  tail  very  slightly  and  carefully, 
he  could  be  made  to  mew  at  the  proper  mo- 
ments, without  disturbing  him  much. 

Helen  played  the  mother,  bringing  her  child, 
Zaidie,  to  church.  Zaidie,  of  course,  pretended 
she  was  a  naughty  girl,  and  talked  out  loud  in 
service.  Kenneth  played  the  father,  who  was  to 
take  Zaidie  out  of  church,  when  she  grew  too 
naughty.  It  was  also  his  business  to  pinch 
George  Washington's  tail  at  the  right  time, — 
which  was  whenever  Zaidie  gave  him  orders. 
Just  a  little  pinch,  most  carefully  given,  was 
all  that  was  required,  but  now  and  then  Ken- 
neth forgot,  and  gave  too  hard  a  squeeze. 
When  this  happened,  George  Washington  turned 
and  slapped  at  them  with  his  paw,  with  a  very 
emphatic  mew,  which  plainly  meant,  "I  am 
quite  willing  to  do  my  part  towards  your  amuse- 
ment, but  if  you  take  too  many  liberties,  I  won't 
play." 


A    DAY    IX    THE    NURSERY.  237 

On  one  of  these  occasions,  Zaidie  suddenly 
stopped  in  the  midst  of  a  pretended  roar  at  hav- 
ing her  ears  boxed  by  Helen,  —  very  tenderly 
boxed,  —  and  listened. 

"  I  don't  think  that  George  Washington  has 
his  usual  kind  of  mew  to-day,"  she  said,  criticis- 
ingly.  "  Don't  you  think  he  squeaks  a  little  ?  " 

Helen  listened,  with  her  head  on  one  side. 

"  Pinch  him  again,  Kenneth,"  she  said.  "Just 
a  little,  very  carefully.  Yes,  I  think  he  does 
squeak.  Do  you  think  he  is  getting  rusty  in- 
side ?  He  drinks  a  lot  of  water,  and  it  made 
the  sewing-machine  all  rusty  when  you  poured 
water  over  it." 

Here  George  Washington  mewed  again  vigor- 
ously, in  response  to  Kenneth's  invitation. 

"  Where  does  the  mew  come  from,  I  won- 
der," said  Zaidie,  thoughtfully,  surveying  the 
cat.  "Is  it  in  his  mouth,  or  down  in  his 
throat  ?  " 

She  poked  her  fingers  in  his  mouth,  and 
felt  around  a  little.  George  Washington  re- 
belled. 

"  Don't  scratch  me,  George.  I  aren't  hurting 
you  a  bit,"  said  Zaidie,  reprovingly.  "I  want 
to  know  where  your  mew  is,  cause,  if  it's  getting 


238  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

rusty,  I'm  going  to  oil  you,  same  as  'Liza  does 
the  machine." 

"  Can  cats  be  oiled  ? "  asked  Helen,  doubt- 
fully. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  'xpect  so,"  returned  Zaidie,  cheer- 
fully. "  Don't  you  think  so  ?  Don't  you  s'pose 
they  get  dried  up  inside  sometimes  ?  Kenneth's 
little  squeaky  lamb  does.  I'll  get  the  machine- 
oiler." 

Marjorie,  curled  up  on  the  window-seat,  did 
not  heed  the  children's  chatter.  Zaidie  got  the 
little  machine-can,  which  once,  in  an  evil  hour, 
Eliza  had  shown  her  how  to  use. 

"  Mew  again,  George  Washington,"  ordered 
Zaidie,  "  so  I  can  find  out  where  it  comes  from. 
If  he  mews  in  his  mouth,  I  can  put  the  oil  on 
his  tongue." 

A  slight  pinch  immediately  brought  an  an- 
swer from  George  Washington.  Zaidie  listened 
carefully,  with  her  ear  close  at  his  head. 

"  It  isn't  in  his  mouth,"  she  said,  positively. 
"  I  think  it's  down  his  throat.  How  can  I  oil 
him  down  there  ?  I'm  afraid  I'll  hurt  him  if  I 
stick  this  long  end  down." 

"  Do  you  s'pose  those  little  holes  in  his  ears 
are  oil-holes  ? "  asked  Helen,  brightening. 


IX    THE    NTHSKKY. 


A   DAY    IN    THE    NURSERY.  241 

Zaidie  immediately  experimented  with  her 
tiny  finger,  much  to  George  Washington's  dis- 
gust. 

"  They  go  pretty  far  down,"  she  said,  sooth- 
ing and  petting  him. 

"Never  mind,  I'm  not  going  to  hurt  you," 
she  said,  reassuringly.  "  I'm  just  going  to  put 
some  nice,  soft  oil  down  your  little  oil-holes, 
and  then  you'll  feel  so  better,  you  can't  think ! 
Your  voice  is  all  rusty.  'Liza  says  things  won't 
go  if  they're  rusty,  and  bimeby  your  voice  won't 
go,  and  you'd  be  sorry,  for  you  like  to  talk, 
you  know." 

As  she  spoke,  Zaidie  tried  to  poke  the  oil- 
can down  his  ears.  George  Washington  jerked 
away. 

"  Here,  Helen,  you  hold  his  hands,  and  Ken- 
neth, you  hold  his  feet  tight.  That's  right. 
Don't  let  go,"  ordered  Zaidie,  getting  her  assist- 
ants into  place.  "  Now,  George,  I  won't  hurt  you 
much,  and  it's  for  your  own  good,  you  know," 
with  a  funny  imitation  of  Eliza's  tone. 

Zaidie  tipped  the  little  oil-can  and  poked  it 
carefully  down  into  George  Washington's  unwil- 
ling oar.  It  tickled  him,  and  he  shook  his  head 
impatiently.  The  children  held  him  rigidly, 


242  EUKICE   AND    CRICKET. 

and  Zaidie  let  the  cold  oil  trickle  down.  At 
the  first  touch  of  it,  George  Washington  gave  a 
wild  yelp,  and  with  extended  claws  and  uprising 
fur,  he  sprang  from  the  children's  grasp,  leaving 
such  a  dig  in  Kenneth's  soft  little  hand  that  he 
immediately  set  up  an  unearthly  howl,  which 
brought  Marjorie  to  the  rescue. 

The  astonished  twins  stood  staring  at  each 
other.  Marjorie  took  up  Kenneth  in  her  arms, 
kissed  the  hurt  place,  and  asked  the  children 
what  they  had  been  doing  to  excite  George 
Washington  to  such  an  unusual  pitch  of  wrath. 

"We  only  tried  to  oil  him  in  his  little  oil- 
holes  in  his  ears,  'cause  he  squeaked  so,  Mar- 
jorie," explained  bewildered  Zaidie,  "  and  I 
don't  believe  he  liked  it.  But  his  voice  was 
dreffully  rusty,  —  truly  it  was." 

"Oil  him?"  said  Marjorie.  "You  absurd 
child !  Animals  don't  need  oiling." 

"  Yes,  they  do"  insisted  Zaidie.  "  'Liza  oiled 
Kenneth's  baa-lamb  the  other  day.  The  big 
woolly  one,  up  there,  you  know.  She  oiled  it 
down  in  its  squeaks.  And  she  rubbed  some- 
thing greasy  on  my  chest  when  I  had  the  croup. 
Don't  you  remember  how  my  breath  squeaked  ? 
She  said  she  oiled  me.  There ! " 


A   DAY    IX    THE    NURSERY.  243 

"  Oh,  you  funny  little  things  !  "  said  Marjorie, 
laughing  at  them.  "  Well,  don't  try  it  again, 
anyway,  on  George  Washington.  He  doesn't 
like  it,  you  see,  and  you  don't  want  to  be 
scratched,  do  you  ?  Don't  cry  any  more,  baby, 
dear.  You're  a  little  man,  and  men  don't  cry 
for  a  scratch  like  that,  you  know." 

Marjorie  set  the  children  playing  something 
else,  and  then  returned  to  her  book.  She  was 
usually  a  capable  and  efficient  guardian  in  the 
nursery,  eldest-daughter  fashion,  but  this  after- 
noon she  was  deep  in  a  fascinating  book  that 
must  go  back  to  the  library  to-morrow.  In  two 
minutes  she  was  absorbed  in  it  again,  to  the 
exclusion  of  her  little  charges. 

Zaidie  looked  around  for  pastures  new.  The 
children  were  not  usually  a  mischievous  set,  but 
now  and  then,  like  grown  people,  they  delighted 
in  the  unexpected. 

As  Helen  wanted  a  drink,  all  three  trooped 
into  the  nursery  bathroom,  which  opened  off 
the  nursery.  It  was  a  pretty  bathroom,  with 
the  walls  covered  with  blue  and  white  sanitary 
paper,  in  a  pretty  tile-pattern,  each  tile  having 
on  it  a  Mother-Goose  figure.  A  big,  white,  fur 
rug  lay  by  the  white  porcelain  bath-tub.  A 


244  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

small  water-cooler  stood  on  a  shelf,  low  enough 
for  the  children  to  help  themselves  to  water. 

After  the  little  flock  had  been  watered  all 
around,  Zaidie's  quick  eyes  spied  a  bottle  of 
vaseline  on  the  wash-stand.  It  had  been  left 
there  by  mistake.  All  those  things  were  gener- 
ally put  away  in  a  little  medicine  closet,  safely 
out  of  the  children's  reach.  It  was  quite  a 
good-sized  jar,  and  entirely  full.  Zaidie  took 
out  the  cork. 

"  I  think  I've  got  a  sore  spot  on  me  some- 
where," she  said,  feeling  carefully  all  over  her 
face.  "  I  think  I  need  some  vasling  on  it.  Do 
you  see  a  sore  spot  on  me,  Helen  ?  " 

Helen  looked,  but  could  not  find  any  place 
that  seemed  to  need  vaseline,  even  after  the 
closest  study  of  Zaidie's  round,  satin-cheeked 
little  face. 

"  Put  it  on  anywhere,"  she  advised.  "  Per- 
haps it  may  get  sore,  and  then  the  vasling  will 
be  already  on." 

Smearing  vaseline  all  over  Zaidie's  face  led,  of 
course,  to  bedaubing  Helen  and  Kenneth,  also, 
with  a  liberal  plaster  of  the  sticky  stuff. 

"  Doesn't  it  stay  on  beautifully  f  Let's  paint 
the  bath-room  with  it  ? "  suggested  Zaidie,  "  and 


A   DAY    IN    THE    NURSERY.  245 

make  it  all  pretty.  We  can  take  our  teeth- 
brushes." 

This  idea  was  an  inspiration.  In  a  moment, 
arming  themselves  with  their  tooth-brushes,  the 
children  fell  energetically  to  work.  In  five  min- 
utes the  bathroom  was  a  perfect  bower  of  vasel- 
ine, and  the  small  workers  were  sticky  from 
head  to  foot. 

Meanwhile  Marjorie  read  on,  obliviously. 

"  Doesn't  it  make  the  room  look  beautiful  f " 
cried  Zaidie,  rapturously.  "  I  guess  'Liza'll  be 
pleased  when  she  sees  how  pretty  we've  made  it. 
And  see  the  wood,  too.  It  shines  splendidly." 

Here  an  unguarded  flourish  on  Kenneth's  part 
left  a  long  smear  of  vaseline  on  Zaidie' s  short, 
smooth  locks. 

"  Oh,  it  makes  it  look  like  mine  !  "  exclaimed 
Helen,  struck  by  the  yellow  gleam  on  Zaidie's 
black  hair. 

"  Does  it  ?"  asked  Zaidie,  eagerly.  Each  little 
girl  was  smitten  with  a  boundless  admiration  of 
the  other's  hair,  for  Helen's  fluffy  corn-silk  mop 
was  a  great  trial  to  her  quiet  little  soul,  and  she 
admired  Zaidie's  smooth,  silky  black  hair,  with 
all  her  heart ;  while  Zaidie,  on  the  other  hand, 
longed  to  possess  Helen's  golden  tangle. 


246  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

"  Put  vasling  thick  all  over  my  head,"  she 
demanded,  instantly,  "  to  make  it  yellow.  Per- 
haps mamma  will  let  me  wear  it  all  the  time, 
and  then  perhaps  it  will  grow  yellow  like  yours. 
I'd  love  that." 

"  Then  I  wish  I  could  make  mine  black  like 
yours,"  sighed  Helen,  wistfully.  "  Couldn't  I 
paint  it,  do  you  suppose  ? " 

Zaidie  clapped  her  hands  over  this  delightful 
idea. 

"  Then  we  would  have  changed  hairs !  What 
fun!  Let's  find  something  to  paint  it  with, 
Helen.  Here's  'Liza's  shoe-blacking.  Wouldn't 
that  do  ?  It  makes  her  shoes  so  shiny  and 
black." 

At  the  sight  of  the  black  liquid,  dainty  Helen 
shrunk  back  a  little. 

"  It  —  it  wouldn't  get  on  my  face,  would  it  ?  " 
she  asked,  doubtfully.  "  I'd  like  to  paint  my 
hair,  but  I  don't  want  my  face  painted  too." 

"  Pooh,  no !  "  said  Zaidie,  drawing  out  the 
sponge.  "  We'll  be  careful.  Now  hold  very 
still,  Helen." 

The  little  hair-dresser  drew  a  long  dab  with 
the  dripping  sponge  over  Helen's  yellow  curls. 
Helen  held  her  breath.  Zaidie  repeated  the 


A   DAY   IN    THE    NURSERY.  247 

dabs,  growing  more  reckless,  till  a  careless  flirt 
of  the  sponge  sent  a  liberal  spatter  down  Helen's 
face,  and  on  her  white  apron. 

"  Ow  !  ow  !  "  wailed  Helen,  who  could  bear  a 
scratch  better  than  dirt,  or  a  stain.  She  in- 
stinctively put  up  her  hands  to  her  face,  to  rub 
it  dry,  and,  of  course,  her  hands  were  all 
streaked,  also. 

"  There,  Zaidie  !  "  she  half  sobbed,  "  you  have 
painted  my  face,  too,  'n'  I'm  afraid  it  won't  come 
off,  and  I'll  have  to  go  round  looking  like  a  little 
nigger-girl !  " 

At  this  tragic  picture,  Zaidie  looked  fright- 
ened, and  instantly  applied  her  wee  handker- 
chief, with  dire  results  to  the  handkerchief,  and 
no  good  effect  on  the  face. 

"See  how  her  looks!"  cried  Kenneth,  glee- 
fully, with  his  hands  deep  in  his  small  trousers' 
pockets. 

Helen  wailed.  There  were  large  tracts  of 
shoe-polish  on  her  pearly  skin,  and  her  tears 
chased  little  furrows  along  them.  Zaidie 
scrubbed  harder  and  harder  with  her  handker- 
chief, but  she  began  to  grow  rather  frightened 
at  the  results  of  her  painting. 

"  It  doesn't  come  off  very  well,"  she  admitted 


248  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

at  last,  pausing  in  some  dismay.  "  And  I  don't 
think  I  like  your  hair  painted,  anyway,  Helen. 
It  looks  so  mixy,  you  know." 

Truly,  poor  little  Helen  was  a  spectacle.  Her 
soft  hair  was  plastered  down  in  black  patches  on 
her  forehead,  and  big  drops  of  blacking,  gather- 
ing on  the  end  of  each  plastered  lock,  dropped 
down  on  her  nose  and  cheeks.  Of  course  it  did 
not  stick  where  the  vaseline  had  been  rubbed,  so 
her  face  was  well  smeared  with  a  mixture  of 
greasiness  and  shoe-polish.  Her  white  apron  was 
well  spattered,  and  her  hands  were,  by  this  time, 
like  a  little  blackamoor's. 

"Her  won't  ever  get  white  any  more,  I 
'xpect,"  said  Kenneth,  cheerfully.  "I  blacked 
my  Noah's  Ark  once,  and  it  didn't  ever  come 
off.  Don't  you  memember  ?  " 

Here  the  children's  feelings  completely  over- 
came them,  and  Zaidie  and  Helen  set  up  a 
shriek  in  concert  that  brought  Marjorie  to  the 
bathroom. 

"  Oh,  you  naughty,  naughty  children ! "  she 
cried,  in  blank  despair.  "  How  shall  I  ever  get 
you  clean  ?  Shoe-polish?  Oh,  horrors!" 

Marjorie  was  really  frightened  lest  the  stain 
should  not  come  out  of  Helen's  hair. 


A    DAY    IN    THE    NURSERY.  249 

Zaidie  roared  louder,  and  Helen  sobbed,  while 
Kenneth,  suddenly  overcome  by  sympathy,  added 
his  voice  to  the  uproar. 

"  Children,  how  could  you  ?  "  said  Marjorie 
again,  walking  around  Helen,  and  wondering 
where  to  get  hold  of  her  best. 

"  You  ought  to  have  come  here  and  told  us 
to  don't,''  sobbed  Zaidie.  "We  always  don't 
when  'Liza  tells  us  to.  You  readed  and  readed 
all  the  time,  and  you  never  told  us  to  don't." 

"Don't  shriek  so,  Zaidie;  I'm  not  deaf," 
said  Marjorie,  ignoring  the  other  point  for  the 
present.  "  Don't  cry  so,  Helen.  You  may  get 
the  blacking  in  your  eyes.  Stand  still,  and  I'll 
try  to  strip  your  clothes  off.  Don't  touch  me, 
dear,  or  you'll  stain  my  things." 

u  Whatever's  the  matter,  Miss  Marjorie  ? " 
said  Eliza's  voice  from  the  doorway.  "  Oh, 
you  naughty  children !  How  have  you  been  and 
gone  and  gotten  yourselves  into  such  a  mess  ? " 

"Oh,  'Liza!"  cried  Marjorie,  thankfully. 
"  I'm  so  glad  you've  come !  Will  this  black 
ever  come  out  of  her  hair?" 

"  Land  knows !  Did  I  ever  see  such  a  place 
in  all  my  born  days  ?  "  casting  a  hurried  glance 
around  at  the  sticky,  shiny  bathroom. 


250  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  She  readed  all  the  time,  and  she  didn't  ever 
tell  us  to  don't,"  said  Zaidie,  pointing  a  re- 
proachful finger  at  Marjorie,  and  thereby  easing 
her  own  small  conscience  of  a  load. 

"  I  jest  guess  you  knew  better'n  that  your- 
self," said  'Liza.  "  But  how  could  you  let  'em 
do  so,  Miss  Marjorie  ?  " 

"  I  was  so  interested  in  my  book,"  stammered 
conscience-stricken  Marjorie.  "  They're  usually 
so  good,  you  know." 

"  When  you  take  care  of  children,  you've  got 
to  take  care  of  children,"  returned  Eliza,  some- 
what tartly.  "  'Taint  all  their  badness.  I  dunno 
what  their  mother  will  say  to  it  all.  You  go  on, 
Miss  Marjorie.  I'll  tend  right  up  to  'em  now, 
myself.  Shoe-polish,  of  all  things!  Hope  to 
goodness  I'll  get  it  out  of  that  child's  hair." 

Eliza's  deft,  experienced  fingers  flew  while 
she  talked.  Only  stopping  to  throw  off  her  out- 
of-door  things,  she  had  turned  the  water  on  in 
the  bath-tub,  had  taken  a  cloth  and  wiped  off 
the  sides  of  the  tub,  which  were  reeking  with 
vaseline,  and  had  gotten  hold  of  Helen  at  arm's 
length  and  stripped  her  clothes  off.  She 
plunged  the  sobbing,  frightened  child  in  the 
tub,  and  began  scrubbing  her  vigorously. 


A    DAY    IN    THE    NURSERY.  251 

Marjorie  retreated,  feeling  very  low  in  her 
mind,  because  she  had  so  neglected  her  little 
charges  in  the  nursery.  Mrs.  Ward  was  always 
strict  about  the  thorough,  conscientious  per- 
formance of  any  duty,  and  would  never  overlook 
any  carelessness  or  neglect,  either  from  chil- 
dren or  servants.  Besides  the  thought  of  her 
mother's  displeasure  because  she  had  not  been 
faithful,  she  was  really  dreadfully  worried  lest 
the  black  stain  should  not  come  out  of  Helen's 
hair.  Kenneth  was  only  just  beginning  to  look 
like  himself  again,  after  his  last-summer  ex- 
perience with  the  fire.  It  would  be  such  a 
shame  if  Helen  had  to  lose  her  lovely  hair,  too. 

An  hour  later  the  nursery  door  opened  and 
Helen,  fresh  and  sweet  and  clean,  ran  joyfully 
across  to  Marjorie's  room. 

"  See !  I'm  all  im-painted,  Marjie !  I'm  never 
going  to  try  to  get  black  hair  again,"  she  cried. 
"  Look !  it's  all  out ! "  holding  up  with  both 
hands  her  silken  topknot,  which,  washed  and 
dried,  was  shining  again  like  spun  gold. 

"  'Liza  said  she  scrubbed  me  nearly  out  of  the 
roots,  but  it's  all  dry  now,  and  the  vasling  is  all  off 
too.  'Liza  doesn't  like  the  bathroom  that  way, 
either.  She's  scrubbing  the  vasling  off  that  now. 


252  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

I  can't  stay  any  longer,  'cause  'Liza  said  only 
stay  two  minutes,  else  I'd  get  into  some  mis- 
chief here,  —  but  I  wouldn't,  truly." 

Marjorie  winced,  but  there  was  nothing  to 
be  said.     She  kissed  Helen  and  sent  her  back. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

A    GOAT    EPISODE.       * 

EUNICE  sat  curled  up  in  a  little  bunch  on  the 
floor.  Her  forehead  was  very  much  knit,  and 
her  eyes  were  very  much  screwed  up.  She  was 
fussing  busily  with  a  piece  of  red  ribbon  and  a 
red  Tarn  o'Shanter. 

"  What  are  you  doing,  Eunice  ?  "  asked  Mar- 
jorie,  looking  in,  in  passing  the  door. 

"  I'm  fixing  my  Tarn,"  Eunice  replied,  cocking 
her  head  critically  on  one  side,  and  surveying 
the  cap  as  she  held  it  up  on  her  fist.  "  It 
doesn't  fit  my  head  very  well,  and  I  thought 
I'd  poke  it  up  on  one  side  with  a  red  ribbon  bow 
and  this  red  quill,  like  May  Chester's." 

"  I  don't  think  Eunice  has  a  very  Tammy 
head,"  struck  in  Cricket,  from  the  window-seat. 
"  Her  Tarn  never  stays  on  a  minute ;  her  hair's 
so  slippery.  Frousy  hair  like  mine  has  one 


Cricket's  curly  topknot  kept  her  scarlet  skat- 


254  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

ing-cap  always  in  the  right  place,  but  Eunice's 
satin-smooth  hair  did  not  afford  a  good  founda- 
tion for  her  hats. 

"  I  can't  get  it  right,  though,"  said  Eunice, 
despairingly.  She  was  hot  and  tired,  and  if  the 
truth  must  be  told,  a  little  cross.  "  This  ribbon 
won't  go  in  the  right  place,  somehow." 

"  I  tried  to  make  a  rosette,  but  it  wouldn't 
rosettate"  said  Cricket,  putting  down  her  book 
and  coming  forward  to  help  look  on.  "  Let 
Marjorie  do  it,  Eunice.  It  looks  so  un-stylish 
the  way  you  have  it." 

"  No,  I  don't  want  to,"  said  Eunice,  holding 
on  to  her  cap.  "  I  want  to  do  it  myself.  Mar- 
jorie doesn't  know  what  I  want." 

"  Yes,  I  do,  child,"  said  Marjorie,  trying  to 
take  the  ribbon.  "I  can  do  it  in  a  moment. 
Let  me  have  it." 

"  No,  I  won't,"  said  Eunice,  decidedly.  "  I  can 
do  it  myself." 

"  But  why  won't  you  let  me  ?  "  urged  Marjorie. 

"  I  haven't  any  reason.  I  just  want  to  won't," 
answered  Eunice,  half  laughing.  "  There,  go 
away,  Marjorie.  I'm  so  cross  that  I  want  to 
bite  nails." 

Eunice  was  always  an  independent  little  body, 


A    GOAT    EPISODE.  255 

so  Marjorie,  with  a  pat  on  her  head,  left  her 
struggling  with  the  Tarn.  Cricket  went  back  to 
her  book,  and  Eunice  worked  on  for  ten  minutes 
in  silence. 

"  There ! "  she  said  at  last,  in  a  tone  of  tri- 
umph, holding  up  her  cap  on  her  hand.  "  It's 
done.  That  looks  all  right,  too,  doesn't  it,  when 
I  put  it  on  ?  You  see,  when  it's  on  crooked,  then 
it's  straight.  Do  you  see  that  quirk?  That's 
very  stylish,"  and  Eunice  paraded  up  and  down 
before  the  glass. 

"  Isn't  it  quirky  ? "  said  Cricket,  admiringly. 
"  Let's  go  down  to  the  library  now  for  mamma. 
You  know  she  wanted  us  to  go  before  this  after- 
noon with  those  books.  You  can  wear  your  cap." 

"  Exactly  what  I  meant  to  do,  Miss  Scricket. 
Get  the  books  and  come  on." 

It  was  Saturday  morning.  The  night  before 
had  been  rainy,  but  it  had  cleared  off  bright  and 
very  cold,  leaving  all  the  sidewalks  covered  with 
a  glare  of  ice.  Ashes  and  sand  were  liberally 
sprinkled,  but  walking  was,  nevertheless,  a  mat- 
ter needing  some  care. 

The  girls  went  carefully  down  the  front  steps, 
which  were  somewhat  slippery,  although  they 
had  already  been  scraped. 


256  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  And  there  comes  Johnnie-goat,  prancing 
along  as  if  he  were  on  his  native  rocks,"  said 
Eunice,  looking  personally  injured,  as  the  big, 
white  goat  came  sauntering  abstractedly  down 
the  street,  in  the  distance. 

"  I  don't  think  he  looks  as  goatified  as  usual, 
though,"  said  Cricket,  glancing  over  her  shoul- 
der. "  Poor  old  Johnnie !  I  haven't  seen  him 
for  ages.  Let's  get  another  picture  of  him, 
sometime,  Eunice." 

The  camera  had  by  no  means  been  forgotten 
all  winter.  Many  pictures  had  been  taken, 
although  the  girls  had  never  developed  any 
more  by  themselves.  They  had  taken  many 
pretty  views  of  different  things.  They  had  the 
twins  in  nearly  every  possible  attitude,  and 
numberless  pictures  of  each  other.  Only  the 
out-door  views  were  much  of  a  success,  though, 
and  they  were  looking  forward  with  great  antici- 
pation to  Kayuna,  next  summer,  where  they 
meant  to  photograph  every  stick  and  stone. 

Eunice  and  Cricket  walked  along  rather 
slowly,  swinging  hands.  Each  had  a  library 
book  under  the  outside  arm.  Cricket  was  de- 
scribing very  vividly  something  she  had  seen  on 
the  street,  the  day  before. 


A    GOAT    EPISODE.  257 

"  It  was  the  funniest  thing  !  Those  two 
ladies,  all  dressed  to  kill,  came  flying  out  of 
the  house  and  down  the  steps,  signalling  to  the 
street-car  to  stop ;  and  just  at  the  same  time  a 
cart  was  going  by,  with  some  long  planks  on  it 
that  waved  way  out  behind.  And  the  lady  was 
looking  so  hard  at  the  car  that  she  never  noticed 
the  planks  out  behind,  and  as  soon  as  the  cart 
itself  was  past  her,  she  rushed  for  the  car,  and 
then  she  struck  the  planks  just  plump,  and  went 
right  over  them,  and  hung  there.  Her  head 
and  arms  were  waving  on  one  side  — just  waving 
—  and  her  legs  on  the  other,  and  she  hung  over 
it;  and  the  cart  man  didn't  know  it,  and  just 
went  on  serenely.  I  felt  awfully  sorry  for  her, 
but  oh,  she  looked  so  funny  !  just  like  a  turtle." 

"  Didn't  she  hurt  herself  dreadfully  ?  "  asked 
Eunice,  with  interest. 

"  I  don't  know.  Well,  the  car  stopped,  and 
then  it  went  on,  for  I  suppose  the  conductor 
saw  that  the  lady  couldn't  get  unhitched  from 
the  cart  right  off,  and  the  cart  trundled  on,  and 
the  other  lady  ran  after  it,  calling  the  man  to 
stop,  and  he  thought  they  were  calling  to  the 
car  all  the  time,  and  he  waved  too,  and  called 
out,  '  Hi,  there !  lady  wants  yer  to  stop ! '  and 


258  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

the  conductor  called  back,  '  Stop  yourself,  you 
old  lummux,  and  let  off  your  passenger,'  and 
all  this  time  the  poor  lady  just  sprawled  over 
those  planks.  I  was  so  sorry  for  her !  but  the 
sorrier  I  got,  the  more  I  laughed,  but  I  ran 
after  the  cart,  too,  and  called  it  to  stop,  and 
some  small  boys  ran  after  it,  and  called  to  the 
man,  too,  and  the  other  lady  kept  calling  — 

But  just  here,  without  a  word  of  warning, 
Cricket  suddenly  went  down  with  a  thump  on 
her  knees,  to  her  intense  surprise.  It  was  not 
icy  just  there,  and  there  was  no  apparent  reason 
for  Cricket's  sudden  humility. 

"  Upon  my  word,  wasn't  that  queer  ? "  she 
said,  getting  up  slowly,  and  ruefully  rubbing 
her  knees. 

Eunice  had  gone  off  into  fits  of  laughter, 
after  a  glance  behind  her. 

"  I  never  saw  anything  funnier,"  she  gasped. 
"  Talk  of  your  lady !  she  isn't  a  circumstance  to 
you.  Oh,  dear!"  and  Eunice  fairly  doubled  up. 

"  What  could  have  been  the  matter  ?  1  went 
down  as  quick  as  a  wink,  and  it  isn't  icy  here, 
either,"  said  bewildered  Cricket.  "  Somehow 
my  knees  just  went  forward.  I  should  think 
they  had  hinges  on  them.  I  just  — 


A    SUDDEN    DOWNFALL. 


A    GOAT    EPISODE.  261 

And  here  she  straightway  went  down  on  her 
knees  again.  Eunice  leaned  against  a  lamp- 
post, breathless  with  laughing. 

"  Oh,  oh  !  don't  you  see  ?  It's  only  —  oh, 
dear!  my  sides  ache  so!  it's—  "  and  Eunice 
wrnt  off  again  into  a  peal  of  laughter. 

Cricket  was  up  by  this  time,  more  puzzled 
than  ever. 

"  Do  you  suppose  I've  got  anything  the  mat- 
ter with  me  ?  I  declare  my  knees  feel  cracked. 
Do  you  suppose  I've  got  to  go  all  the  way  to 
the  library  bumping  along  on  my  knees  ?  Some- 
thing seemed  to  whang  into  my  back  knees,  and 
I  —  oh,  Johnnie-goat !  was  it  you  ?  Eunice,  was 
it  Johnnie-goat  ? " 

Eunice  nodded  weakly.  She  had  no  breath 
left  for  words.  Johnnie-goat  stood  placidly  be- 
hind Cricket,  wagging  his  long  beard  socially, 
and  making  little  corner-wise  motions  of  his 
solemn  head,  as  he  always  did  when  he  was 
playfully  inclined. 

"  He  just  walked  right  up  and  bunted  you 
under  the  knees,  and  down  you  went.  I  believe 
he  did  it  for  a  joke,"  gasped  Eunice.  "  See !  he 
doesn't  seem  angry  a  bit." 

"  He  doesn't    seem  angry  ? "   asked    Cricket, 


262  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

somewhat  indignantly.  "  I  should  say  he'd 
better  not.  I  don't  know  what  should  have 
spoiled  his  temper.  Pm  the  one  to  be  angry,  I 
should  say.  You  wretched  old  Johnnie-goat ! 
breaking  my  knee-pans,  and  making  everybody 
laugh  at  me,  —  only  there  isn't  anybody  around/' 

"  Yes,  there  are  three  children  up  in  that  win- 
dow, across  the  street,"  said  Eunice.  "  They're 
laughing  as  if  they'd  kill  themselves." 

"  I'm  glad  there's  something  to  amuse  them," 
said  Cricket,  cheerfully.  "Oh,  Eunice!  that's 
the  very  house  my  lady  came  out  of  yesterday ! 
Well,  I  laughed  at  her,  and  those  children  are 
welcome  to  laugh  at  me.  "Tell  me  how  he  did 
it." 

"  Just  as  I  told  you,"  said  Eunice,  breaking 
out  into  a  peal  of  laughter  again,  as  they  walked 
along.  "  He  simply  came  up  and  bunted  you 
under  the  knees,  and  the  first  thing  I  knew,  you 
were  on  the  ground,  and  then  he  did  it  again." 

"  Go  home,  Johnnie-goat,"  said  Cricket,  turn- 
ing and  shaking  her  finger  reproachfully  at  the 
goat,  who  was  stalking  solemnly  on  behind,  trail- 
ing his  bit  of  rope,  which,  as  usual,  he  had  eaten 
through,  in  order  to  make  his  escape.  "  You've 
distinguished  yourself  enough  for  to-day." 


A    GOAT    EPISODE.  263 

"  If  we  wanted  to,  I  could  call  a  policeman 
and  have  you  arrested,"  added  Eunice. 

"  I'm  ashamed  of  you,  Johnnie-goat,  when 
we've  always  been  such  friends,"  went  on 
Cricket,  "  and  I've  scratched  your  head  between 
your  horns  lots  of  times,  where  you  can't  reach 
it  yourself.  Go  straight  home  and  think  how 
sorry  you  are,  and  maybe  I'll  forgive  you, — 
only  you'll  have  to  behave  yourself  pretty  well, 
else  you  won't  stay  forgiven." 

Johnnie-goat  stood  still  and  meditated  a  mo- 
ment. Then,  with  the  air  of  one  who  is  some- 
what bored  by  circumstances,  he  turned  and 
wandered  slowly  back,  with  a  meditative  cock  to 
his  short  tail. 

"He  always  means  mischief  when  he  looks 
mildly  and  meekly  playful  like  that,"  Cricket 
said,  turning  to  watch  him,  and  to  guard  against 
another  attack  in  her  rear. 

"  Cricket,  where  is  your  library  book  ?  "  asked 
Eunice,  presently. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Cricket,  stopping  short. 
"  Oh,  that  Johnnie-goat !  I  dropped  it  when  he 
butted  me,  I  suppose.  We'll  have  to  go  back. 
It  was  just  around  the  corner.  I  hope  nobody 
has  picked  it  up." 


264  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

The  children  turned  and  quickened  their  steps. 
As  they  went  around  the  corner  they  saw  a 
knot  of  little  gamins  collected  further  down  the 
street,  an  evidently  excited  crowd,  but  the  book 
lay  where  Cricket  had  dropped  it  a  few  minutes 
before. 

"  What  are  these  boys  doing  ? "  asked  Cricket, 
curiously.  "  I  wonder  if  anything  has  happened. 
Just  hear  them  hoot !  " 

"  They're  up  to  some  mischief,  probably," 
said  Eunice.  "•  Come  on,  Cricket." 

But  Cricket  lingered,  with  her  head  over  her 
shoulder. 

"  They're  certainly  teasing  something,  Eunice," 
she  said,  in  sudden  excitement.  "  Some  animal, 
—  perhaps  it  is  a  cat  —  no,  it  isn't  —  it's  John- 
nie-goat!  Those  horrid  wretches!"  as  an  un- 
mistakable bleat  rose  long  and  loud.  "  Eunice, 
I  must  stop  them ! " 

Bang  went  the  book  on  the  pavement,  and  off 
darted  Cricket. 

"  Come  back,  Cricket !  Don't  go  there,"  called 
Eunice,  urgently.  "  They  might  hurt  you.  You 
can't  stop  them.  Cricket !  " 

But  she  called  to  deaf  ears,  for  Cricket  flew 
on,  and  Eunice,  with  the  instinct  never  to  desert 


A    GOAT    EPISODE.  265 

Mr.  Micawber,  picked  up  the  library  book,  and 
followed  in  much  trepidation. 

Cricket  dashed  into  the  centre  of  the  group 
like  a  small  cyclone,  and  the  little  gamins  fell 
back,  right  and  left,  in  sheer  amazement.  Her 
scarlet  Tarn  was  on  the  back  of  her  head, 
her  curls  were  rampant  with  the  wind,  and  her 
eyes  were  blazing  with  indignation  like  two 
stars. 

Poor  Johnnie-goat  was  indeed  in  trouble.  A 
tin  can  dangled  from  his  short  tail,  and  on  his 
horns  were  two  similar  ornaments,  which  bumped 
and  clattered  as  he  made  ineffective  plunges  at 
his  enemies.  Besides  these,  stout  strings  were 
tied  to  each  horn,  so  that  his  head  could  be 
jerked  this  way  and  that,  as  he  jumped  about, 
half  frantic  with  rage  and  terror.  One  of  the 
boys  prodded  him  with  a  sharp  stick. 

"  You  shameful  wretches  !  "  rang  out  Crick- 
et's clear  tones.  "  I  wish  some  big  giant  would 
come  and  torment  you,  so !  How  dare  you  ! " 
she  snatched  the  strings  from  the  boy's  hands, 
and  held  them  firmly  in  her  own  strong  little 
fingers. 

"  Where  is  your  knife  ? "  she  said,  imperiously, 
to  the  biggest  boy. 


266  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

He  took  it  from  his  pocket  and  awkwardly 
held  it  out  to  her. 

"  No,  open  it,  and  cut  those  cans  off.  You, 
boy,  hold  his  head  still.  G-ently,  mind.  Poor 
Johnnie-goat ! "  With  one  hand  she  grasped  a 
jerking  horn,  and  with  the  other  she  rubbed  the 
sensitive  little  place  on  his  head.  Johnnie-goat 
almost  instantly  stood  quiet,  with  drooped  head. 

"  A  fine  thing  for  you  great  boys  to  torment 
a  poor,  helpless  animal,"  Cricket  said,  scornfully. 
She  flung  the  tin  cans  into  the  street. 

"Now,  be  off  with  you,  every  one,"  she 
ordered.  "  I'll  take  Johnnie-goat  home.  G-o, 
I  say,"  stamping  her  foot  imperiously,  as  the 
boys  showed  signs  of  lingering.  They  had 
actually  said  not  a  single  word,  so  amazed  were 
they  all  at  the  valiant  onslaught  of  the  little 
maid. 

Her  finger  still  pointed  unwaveringly  down  a 
neighbouring  alleyway,  and  slowly  the  boys,  one 
after  another,  slouched  off.  Any  sign  of  inde- 
cision on  the  part  of  Cricket,  and  they  would 
have  refused  to  go.  But,  with  her  shoulders 
well  back,  and  her  head  erect,  she  stood  steadily 
pointing  down  the  alley.  She  watched  them 
round  a  corner,  and  never  stirred  till  the  last 


A    GOAT    EPISODE.  267 

one,  with  many  a  sheepish    glance   backward, 
had  disappeared. 

"  Got  my  book,  Eunice  ? "  said  Cricket,  briskly. 
"  I'm  going  to  take  Johnnie-goat  home  myself, 
and  can't  we  go  to  the  library  round  that  way  ? 
'Tisn't  much  further.  Gracious !  how  hot  I 
am!"  and  Cricket  unbuttoned  her  long  coat 
and  threw  it  open.  "  Do  you  mind  carrying 
my  book  for  me,  Eunice  ?  I'd  better  hold  John- 
nie-goat with  both  hands.  He  seems  sort  of 
excited." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
A    SCRAPE. 

ONE  Saturday  morning  towards  the  end  of 
March,  Marjorie  and  Eunice  and  Cricket  were 
all  in  mamma's  room.  Mrs.  Ward  had  not 
come  home  from  market  yet,  and  Cricket  was 
watching  for  her  from  the  window,  eager  to 
ask  permission  for  something  she  wanted  to  do. 

"  There's  Donald  !  "  she  suddenly  exclaimed. 
"  How  funny  !  What  can  he  be  doing  here  at 
this  time  ?  " 

She.  ran  to  the  hall,  and  hung  over  the  ban- 
ister, calling  down  a  greeting  as  Donald  let 
himself  in.  To  her  surprise,  he  made  her  no 
answer,  but  with  a  curt  word  to  Jane  to  tell 
his  father  that  he  was  in  the  study  and  wanted 
to  see  him  as  soon  as  he  came  in,  he  bolted  into 
his  father's  private  room  behind  the  office,  and 
shut  the  door. 

Cricket  came  back  and  reported,  with  much 
amazement. 


A   SCRAPE.  269 

"  I  hope  he  isn't  going  to  have  mumps  again,'1 
said  Eunice,  anxiously.  "  Or,  perhaps  it's  scar- 
let fever.  Did  Donald  ever  have  scarlet  fever, 
Marjorie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.  Oh,  I  don't  suppose  he's 
going  to  have  any  more  baby  diseases,"  said 
Marjorie.  "  There's  papa  now  ! " 

Doctor  Ward  entered  the  house,  and  the  lis- 
tening girls  heard  the  maid  deliver  Donald's 
message.  He  removed  his  coat  in  his  leisurely 
way,  whistling  softly  in  a  fashion  he  had,  and 
went  into  his  office  for  a  moment.  Then  they 
heard  him  go  into  his  study. 

The  girls  waited,  breathlessly,  but  they  only 
heard  their  father's  cheery : 

"  Well,  my  son  ? "  and  then  the  door 
closed. 

The  room  was  directly  under  them,  and  they 
could  hear  the  faint,  steady  murmur  of  voices, 
but  nothing  more. 

Presently  Mrs.  Ward  came  home,  and  the 
children  flew  to  meet  her. 

" Donald  here,  and  talking  with  his  father  ? 
Well,  my  little  maids,  what  is  the  mystery  in 
that  ?  Sick  ?  Oh,  I  dare  say  not.  Probably  he 
only  wants  advice  from  your  father  about  some- 


270  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

thing.  Whatever  it  is,  we'll  know  presently,  if 
it's  any  importance." 

A  little  later,  mamma  was  called  into  the 
conference.  She  did  not  stay  very  long,  how- 
ever, and  she  soon  came  out,  leaving  the  door 
open.  The  girls,  who  were  now  down  in  the 
back  parlour,  could  hear  their  father's  voice 
distinctly. 

"  There's  nothing  to  do  but  stand  it,  my  son. 
I'd  rather  you'd  be  suspended  for  a  year  than 
have  you  clear  yourself  at  others'  expense. 
Loyalty  is  paramount  in  this  instance,  and  I'll 
support  you  in  the  stand  you've  taken." 

"  Jove !  father,  you're  a  brick !"  said  Donald, 
gratefully.  "  I  was  jolly  afraid  you'd  cut  up 
rough,  for  it's  pretty  tough  on  you  to  have  your 
son  rusticated." 

"  A  trifle  tough  on  you,  my  lad,"  returned 
Doctor  Ward.  "  But  there  are  worse  things 
than  rusticating  for  a  time.  One  is  —  deserving 
it." 

"  The  Faculty  think  I  do,"  answered  Donald. 

"Never  mind  that.  Suppose  those  of  you 
who  can,  do  clear  yourselves.  That  fastens 
the  blame  definitely  on  the  few,  where  now  it 
is  distributed  among  twenty.  And  the  whole 


A   SCRAPE.  271 

thing  is  not  serious  in  itself,  only  the  Faculty 
had  promised  to  suspend  the  next  offenders  and 
to  expel  the  ringleaders,  if  they  could  be  found." 

"  This  is  the  next  time,  as  it  happens,"  said 
Donald,  gloomily.  "  Worse  luck ! " 

"  Yes,  worse  luck  for  you.  But  you  are 
entirely  right.  Don't  prove  your  alibi.  Do 
you  all  stand  by  the  others ;  you  fellows  can, 
as  you  say,  stand  three  months'  rusticating 
better  than  the  half-dozen  could  stand  expul- 
sion." 

Donald  drummed  his  heels  together.  He  was 
seated  on  a  corner  of  the  library  table,  throwing 
up  a  paper-weight,  and  catching  it  carefully. 

"Oh,  we'll  stand  by  the  men,"  he  said. 
"  See  here,  dad,  you  know  I  didn't  mean  to 
let  on  all  this  even  to  you.  I  only  meant  to 
tell  you  that  your  promising  son  is  suspended. 
But,"  he  added,  ruefully,  "  somehow  I  forgot  you 
weren't  one  of  the  fellows." 

Doctor  Ward  gave  his  big  son  a  crack  on  the 
shoulder  that  nearly  sent  him  under  the  table. 

"  I  am  one  of  the  fellows,  old  boy.  I  wasn't 
a  college  man  for  nothing;  and  though  it's 
twenty-one  years  since  I  graduated,  I  haven't 
forgotten  college-feeling." 


272  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

"And  yet,  —  I  did  hate  to  have  you  think 
I'd  disgraced  you,"  said  Donald,  lifting  honest 
eyes  to  his  father's.  "  I  haven't  done  wonders, 
I  know,  but  still  I  haven't  done  so  very  badly. 
And  I  suppose  this  will  spoil  my  chances  of 
getting  on  the  team.  Hang  it  all !  " 

"  I'd  like  to  see  Professor  Croft  casually  in  a 
day  or  two,  and  find  out  the  attitude  of  the 
Faculty  in  the  matter.  This  morning  was  the 
sentence  read?"  And  here  the  door  shut 
again. 

The  girls  looked  at  each  other  in  horror. 
What  dreadful  thing  had  happened  to  this 
big,  handsome  Donald  of  theirs,  of  whom  they 
were  so  proud  ?  They  did  not  understand  all 
that  had  passed ;  and  that  their  father  plainly 
sympathised  with  Donald  did  not  remove  the  stub- 
born fact  that  he  was  in  some  dreadful  disgrace. 

Eunice  and  Cricket  looked  at  each  other  with 
bated  breath.  Marjorie  flew  to  her  mother. 

"  Did  he  say  he  was  going  to  be  —  suspen- 
ded ?  "  faltered  Eunice. 

"  Yes,  —  or  rusty-coated,"  said  Cricket,  her 
eyes  getting  large  and  dark.  "  Eunice,  do  you 
suppose  it  hurts  ? " 

"  I    don't    know.      Oh,    Cricket,  isn't   it    too 


A    SCRAPE.  273 

dreadful !  What  can  he  have  done  ?  But  papa 
doesn't  seem  to  think  he's  to  blame,  anyway," 
added  Eunice,  hopefully.  "  He  said  he'd  stand 
by  him." 

"  But  —  suspended,  Eunice ! "  repeated  Cricket, 
with  a  direful  vision  of  a  dangling  rope.  "It 
—  it  wouldn't  be  by  the  neck,  would  it  ?  How 
long  would  they  keep  him  there  ?  Oh,  Eunice  ! 
my  heart  is  all  jumpy." 

"  It  couldn't  be  by  the  neck,"  said  Eunice, 
positively.  "  Because  then  he'd  be  regularly  — 
hung,  and  they  only  hang  people  for  murder 
and  those  things.  I'm  sure  of  that." 

"  But  papa  said  he  might  be  rusty -coated, 
and  he  said  that  wasn't  the  worst  thing  that 
could  happen.  What  is  it,  Eunice  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Eunice,  miserably. 
"  Do  you  suppose  it  could  be  like  being  tarred 
and  feathered  like  Floyd  Ireson?"  she  added, 
almost  below  her  breath. 

"Eunice,  I  won't  let  them!"  cried  Cricket, 
springing  up  furiously.  "Don't  let  them  dare 
to  touch  my  brother !  I'd  scratch  them  and  I'd 
bite  them  and  —  oh,  Eunice !  papa  wouldn't  let 
them,  would  he  ?  " 

« Perhaps  he  couldn't  help  it.     If  the  Presi- 


274  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

dent  said  he  had  to  be  rusty-coated,  perhaps  it 
Avould  have  to  be  done,"  said  Eunice,  wretchedly, 
for  she  had  an  exalted  idea  of  the  authority 
of  the  powers  that  be.  Eunice  was  a  born 
Tory. 

"1  don't  care  if  five  billion  presidents  said 
so,"  cried  Cricket,  defiantly.  She  was  a  born 
Radical,  though  her  sweet  temper  and  wise 
training  had  saved  her  from  any  desire  to  re- 
volt. Now  all  the  love  and  loyalty  of  her 
stanch  little  soul  surged  up. 

"I'd  kick  him  and  I'd  bite  him,"  repeated 
Cricket,  "  and  I'd  —  don't  you  remember  that 
I  made  those  big  boys  stop  teasing  Johnnie- 
goat?" 

"Yes,  I  know,"  returned  Eunice,  who  had 
been  very  much  impressed  by  that  short  scene. 

"  What  can  Don  have  done  ?  "  queried  Cricket, 
recurring  to  the  starting-point.  "  Oh,  dear  !  I 
wish  Faculties  would  be  reasonable  ! "  With  this 
modest  desire,  she  pounded  viciously  on  the 
window-sill. 

"  I'll  be  so  ashamed  to  have  the  girls  know," 
said  Eunice.  "  There's  May  Chester.  Her 
brother  is  in  the  same  class." 

"  Perhaps    he'll    be     suspended,    too,"    said 


A    SCRAPE.  275 

Cricket,  hopefully.  Misery  loves  company. 
"  But  —  suspended,  Eunice,"  with  a  fresh  wave 
of  dejection.  "  And  I'm  so  afraid  it  will  hurt." 

Here  the  luncheon  bell  rang.  Directly  after, 
the  study  door  was  thrown  open,  and  Doctor 
Ward  and  Donald  came  out.  The  father's  arm 
was  thrown  across  his  tall  son's  shoulder,  in  a 
boyish  fashion  that  the  doctor  often  used. 

"  Don't  tell  the  kids  more  than  you  can  help," 
said  Donald,  hurriedly,  as  they  came  out,  not 
aware  that  the  children  knew  anything. 

"  Well,  Lady  Greasewrister  and  Madam  Van 
Twister,  her  -ladyship's  sister,"  he  called  out,  as 
he  entered  the  dining-room,  with  the  assumption 
of  his  usual  teasing  manner.  Doctor  Ward  had 
stepped  into  his  office  for  a  moment,  and  the 
others  had  not  yet  come  down.  To  his  immense 
surprise  and  embarrassment,  Eunice  instantly 
burst  out  crying. 

"Hallo,  Waterworks!  what's  wrong?"  he 
exclaimed,  in  dismay.  Tears  were  rare  with  any 
of  the  children. 

"Oh,  Donald,  I  can't  stand  it!  Will  it  hurt 
you  ? "  wailed  Eunice,  completely  overcome  by 
the  sight  of  the  big,  handsome  fellow,  and  asso- 
ciating him  suddenly  with  Cricket's  image  of  a 


276  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

dangling  rope.  "  How  long  will  you  have  to  do 
it?" 

"  Do  what?"  stared  Donald. 

"And  will  you  have  to  be  rusty-coated,  too?" 
burst  in  Cricket,  very  red  as  to  her  cheeks  and 
very  shiny  as  to  her  eyes.  "  How  do  they  put 
it  on?  Donald,  I  don't  care  if  the  President 
himself  does  it,  I'll  bite  him  till  he's  all  chewed 
up!" 

«  Hal-lo !  "  whistled  Donald.  The  others  not 
having  arrived  yet,  the  three  were  still  alone. 
"  What  have  you  two  kids  got  in  your 
heads  ? " 

"  We  heard  what  father  said  when  the  door 
was  open,"  confessed  Eunice,  honestly.  "  We 
couldn't  help  it.  He  said  you'd  have  to  be 
suspended  — 

"  Or  rusty -coated,"  put  in  Cricket. 

"  And  what  is  it  all  about  ?  and  will  it  hurt  ? 
Oh,  Don,  tell  us  !  "  and  Eunice  threw  a  pair  of 
imploring  arms  around  his  neck,  while  Cricket, 
with  a  gush  of  defensive  affection,  hugged  one 
of  his  legs. 

"  We'll  stand  by  you,  too,  Don,  whatever  it  is, 
and  papa  will,  for  he  said  so.  Don,  don't  go 
back  to  that  nasty  old  college,  ever.  Go  to 


A    SCRAPE.  277 

Princeton.  It  has  such  pretty  colors.  I  always 
loved  that  black  and  orange,"  urged  Eunice, 
tightening  her  clasp. 

Donald,  much  touched,  swept  both  his  loyal 
little  sisters  into  his  muscular  arms,  and  sat 
down  on  the  window-seat. 

"  See  here,  you  monkeys,  I  didn't  mean  to 
tell  you,  but  I  must  now.  There  was  a  jolly 
row  on  Wednesday  night,  and  one  of  the  pro- 
fessors caught  on,  and  about  twenty  of  us  were 
hauled  up.  We're  suspended  for  the  rest  of 
the  year,  —  that  is,  can't  go  back  till  college 
opens  in  the  fall.  We're  not  going  to  be  hung, 
as  you  evidently  think,  if  that's  what  you're 
fussing  about." 

«  Oh,  is  that  all  ?  " 

"  But  Don,  you  didn't  do  anything  ?  " 

"And  if  you're  rusty-coated,  will  that  hurt 
you  ?  " 

"  We  thought  maybe  you'd  be  tarred  and 
feathered." 

"  And  suspended !  I  did  think  it  was  some 
kind  of  hanging  up." 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  the  President  you  didn't 
do  anything  ?  " 

Donald  put  his  hands  over  his  ears  as  the  girls 


278  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

poured  out  their  chorus,  one  on  each  side.     Just 
then  the  rest  of  the  family  arrived. 

"  It's  very  nice  for  Donald  to  have  a  vacation 
again,"  said  mamma,  patting  her  big  boy's 
shoulder  as  she  passed  him.  The  younger  fry 
fell  on  him  rapturously.  Donald  was  always 
popular  among  them. 


CHAPTER   XVTIL 

AN   EXPEDITION. 

Bur  Eunice  and  Cricket  were  not  altogether 
satisfied  yet.  They  were  very  silent  during 
luncheon,  which  was  rather  an  uncomfortable 
meal,  in  spite  of  the  older  people's  efforts  to 
make  it  as  usual. 

Whatever  face  he  put  on  it,  to  be  rusticated 
under  any  circumstances  was  a  hard  thing  for 
a  proud  fellow  like  Donald,  to  say  nothing  of 
his  athletic  aspirations. 

After  luncheon,  Donald  stepped  into  his 
father's  office  for  another  word  or  two,  while 
the  others  went  up-stairs.  A  few  minutes  after, 
Mrs.  Ward  sent  Cricket  back  to  the  kitchen  with 
a  message  to  the  cook.  The  office  door  was 
still  open,  and  Donald's  voice  was  plainly 
audible. 

"  Yes,  this  is  terribly  hard  on  Chester,  for  he 
has  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  regular  dare- 
devil, and  the  Faculty  immediately  put  him  down 


280  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

for  one  of  the  ringleaders,  whereas,  you  see,  he 
wasn't  in  it  at  all.  A  great  chum  of  his  was 
concerned,  and  the  Faculty  have  pretty  well  got 
hold  of  that,  and  there's  still  a  chance  that 
three  or  four  of  them  may  be  expelled.  Of 
course  he  won't  peach,  for  the  only  thing  that 
will  save  anybody  is  for  us  all  to  hold  our 
tongues." 

"  And  Chester  was  with  you,  you  said  ?  " 

"  Yes.  We  were  especially  lamb-like  that 
night,  —  calling  on  Miss  Vassar.  It  was  so 
pleasant  that  we  started  to  walk  home,  and  met 
another  fellow  who  rooms  in  town,  and  turned 
in  for  a  smoke.  We  left  him  about  twelve. 
We  fell  in  with  some  others  on  the  way  out, 
who  had  likewise  been  in  town,  and  then  we 
suddenly  got  into  the  crowd  of  the  others,  and 
were  all  pounced  upon  together.  Of  course,  sir, 
I  can't  give  the  names  of  those  who  were  really 
guilty." 

"  By  no  means.  And  old  Chester  takes  it 
hard,  you  say?" 

"  He  will,  when  he  knows  of  it.  I'm  sorry 
for  Chester.  He's  a  good  fellow,  —  first-rate 
stuff,  —  but  he's  chuck-full  of  mere  mischief. 
You  see,  after  that  other  row  in  the  winter,  his 


AN    EXPEDITION.  281 

father  swore  that  if  he  got  into  any  rumpus 
again,  he'd  take  him  out  of  college,  and  put  him 
in  the  office  ;  and  Chester  hates  that  like  poison. 
And  old  Chester  isn't  like  you,  dad.  He  never 
was  a  college  man,  and  he  doesn't  understand." 

"  I  suppose  not.  H'm  !  I'm  sorry  for  Ches- 
ter. I  like  the  lad.  It  would  be  rough  on  him 
to  spoil  his  career." 

Here  Cricket  suddenly  awoke  to  the  fact  that 
she  was  hanging  on  to  the  banisters,  listening 
with  all  her  might.  Much  mortified,  she  flew 
on  to  the  kitchen  and  delivered  her  message, 
and  then  darted  up-stairs  to  share  her  story 
with  Eunice. 

"  Eunice,  something  must  be  done  about  it. 
Sidney  Chester  is  awfully  in  it,  and  Don  says 
he  didn't  do  a  thing,  either.  They  were  both 
calling  on  Miss  Gwendoline  Vassar,  the  pretty 
one  with  red  hair,  —  what  Donald  calls  Tissue 
hair,  —  he's  awfully  struck  on  her,  you  know,  — 
and  the  boys  were  both  there  that  very  night." 

"Then  they  have  only  to  tell  the  President 
so,"  said  Eunice,  much  relieved. 

"  That's  just  it.  They  won't  say  so,  and  some 
others  who  were  caught,  and  didn't  really  do 
anything,  won't  say  so  either,  because  then  the 


282  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

President  would  know  just  who  did  it,  and  expel 
those  very  ones." 

"  It's  all  dreadfully  muddled,  seems  to  me." 
sighed  Eunice.  "  College  things  are  always  so 
funny." 

"I  think  they're  very  unsensible,  myself," 
said  Cricket,  decidedly.  "  I  think  they  ought 
to  tell.  If  the  other  fellows  did  it,  let  them 
say  so,  and  be  expelled.  If  s  like  Zaidie,  the 
other  day.  I  was  in  the  nursery,  and  mamma  told 
her  not  to  run  the  sewing-machine,  and  Zaidie 
did,  and  mamma  tied  a  handkerchief  around  her 
hands.  And  yesterday,  Zaidie  got  at  the  ma- 
chine again,  when  'Liza  wasn't  there,  and  then 
she  went  and  twisted  a  handkerchief  around  her 
own  hands,  and  sat  down  in  the  corner,  and 
wouldn't  play  with  Helen  and  Kenneth  for  a  long 
time.  '  I  just  wanted  to  run  that  machine  again,' 
she  said,  *  and  now  I've  got  to  tie  my  hands  up, 
'cause  I  was  naughty ;  but  it  was  fun,  anyway.' " 

"  That's  the  way  those  boys  ought  to  do," 
said  Eunice.  "  If  they  want  to  go  and  do  bad 
things,  they  ought  to  speak  up  like  a  man  and 
say  so.  Think  of  Don  and  Sidney  Chester  and 
the  others  being  expelled,  and  they  just  calling 
on  Miss  Vassar ! " 


AN    EXPEDITION.  283 

"  And  Don's  just  crazy  to  get  in  the  team ! " 
added  Eunice,  almost  in  tears  again.  "  Oh, 
Cricket,  I  wish  the  President  could  know  about 
it.  I'm  sure  he'd  do  something." 

Cricket  sprang  up  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"  Eunice,  let's  go  and  tell  him  !  Come  on, 
straight  off,  and  don't  let's  tell  anybody  till  we 
get  back,  'cause  they  wouldn't  let  us,  I  suppose. 
Grown  people  are  so  funny.  And  somebody 
ought  to  tell." 

Eunice  stared  helplessly  at  Cricket,  aghast 
at  this  daring  proposal.  Her  younger  sister's 
rapidity  of  thought  and  action  often  took  her 
breath  away. 

«  Go  to  the  President's  house  ?  Oh,  Cricket, 
would  you  dare  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  would,"  answered  Cricket,  boldly. 
•'  He's  only  a  man.  He  couldn't  eat  us,  could 
he?  We'll  just  tell  him  we're  Doctor  Ward's 
daughters,  'cause  he  knows  papa.  Don't  you 
remember  that  papa  dined  with  him  last  week  ? 
And  we'll  just  tell  him  that  Don  and  Sidney 
Chester  were  calling  on  Miss  Vassar,  and  that 
some  of  the  others  weren't  in  it,  too,  and 
ask  him  please  to  give  them  all  another 
chance." 


284  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

Cricket  was  flying  out  of  one  dress  and  into 
another  all  the  time  she  talked.  Eunice  still 
stared. 

"  Would  papa  like  it  ? "  she  hesitated. 

"  It  won't  make  any  difference  after  it's  done ; 
and  if  he  doesn't  like  it,  why,  —  I'll  never  do  it 
again.  I'll  have  the  satisfaction  of  doing  it 
once,  though.  Come  on,  you  old  slowpoke. 
I'm  nearly  ready." 

"  We  don't  know  where  he  lives,"  objected 
Eunice,  feebly,  but  getting  up  and  going  to  the 
closet. 

"  I  do.  Or  rather,  I  know  the  house  when  I 
see  it,  and  anybody  will  tell  us  the  way.  I  know 
what  cars  to  take  from  here,  and  the  conductors 
can  tell  us  where  to  change.  We'll  be  all  right," 
finished  Cricket,  confidently.  "  Do  hurry,  Eu- 
nice," and  Eunice  hurried,  feeling  as  if  she  were 
pursued  by  a  small  cyclone. 

A  little  later,  the  two  girls  went  quietly  down- 
stairs, and  slipped  out  of  the  front  door. 

"Will  mamma  be  anxious,  do  you  think?" 
asked  Eunice,  suddenly,  feeling  very  guilty,  for 
the  girls  never  thought  of  going  out  for  a  whole 
afternoon  without  asking  permission. 

"  Guess    not.      She'll   think   we've    gone    to 


AX    EXPEDITION.  285 

Emily  Drayton's.  She  said  this  morning  we 
might  go,  you  know.  There's  our  car." 

The  two  girls,  with  fluttering  hearts  and  ex- 
cited faces,  got  on  the  car,  feeling  as  if  they 
were  bound  for  Japan  or  the  North  Pole. 
Cricket's  buoyant,  hopeful  nature  was  serenely 
confident  of  gaining  her  end,  while  Eunice's 
more  apprehensive  temperament  made  her  quake 
at  the  process. 

"  What  shall  we  say,  Cricket  ?  "  said  Eunice, 
doubtfully. 

"  Just  tell  the  President  all  about  it,"  an- 
swered Cricket,  easily.  "  I  hope  we  can  get  him 
to  let  the  other  boys  off,  too.  Perhaps  he  could 
just  rusty -coat  them  for  just  a  week  or  two. 
They  ought  to  be  willing  to  stand  that;  for,  after 
all,  what  could  you  expect  of  Freshmen?"  with  a 
tolerant  air  and  accent  that  amused  some  ladies 
sitting  by  them  immensely. 

"We  change  here.  Come  on,"  and  Cricket 
jumped  up  briskly.  Eunice  followed  more 
slowly.  Generally,  she  was  the  leader  in  their 
joint  doings,  even  if  Cricket  was,  as  usually  hap- 
pened, the  originator.  To-day  both  felt  that 
Cricket  was  in  command  of  the  expedition. 

They    reached    the    house    at    last.      Eunice 


286  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

quaked  more  and  more,  but  Cricket,  though  in  a 
quiver  of  excitement,  was  as  bold  as  a  lion. 
The  feeling  that  she  was  going  to  rescue  her 
beloved  brother  from  the  clutches  of  that  hawk- 
like Faculty,  who  always  hovered  about,  lying 
in  wait  to  tear  unsuspecting  Freshmen  to  bits, 
gave  her  unbounded  courage.  Donald  was  in 
difficulty,  and  some  curious  code  of  honour  kept 
him  from  saving  himself.  Somebody  else  must 
do  it,  then.  That  was  very  simple ;  and  she 
was  the  person  to  do  it.  With  this  small 
maiden,  as  we  know,  to  think  and  to  act  were 
always  in  close  connection,  —  so  close  that  often 
there  was  some  apparent  confusion  of  precedent. 
But  now  she  was  sure  she  was  right,  and  she 
valiantly  went  ahead. 

Eunice  was  white  with  excitement.  She, 
forming  the  rank  and  file  of  the  attacking 
army,  had  less  to  sustain  her  courage  than 
General  Cricket  had.  Definite  action  is  always 
easier  than  to  await  an  issue.  Then,  also, 
Cricket's  sublime  unconsciousness  that  any  one 
was  particularly  interested  or  concerned  in  what 
she  did,  saved  her  from  the  wonder,  "  What  will 
people  think  ?  "  which  so  often  nips  one's  finest 
projects  in  the  bud. 


AN    EXPEDITION.  287 

«  What  shall  we  do  if  the  President  is  out?" 
it  suddenly  occurred  to  Eunice  to  wonder,  as 
they  rang  the  bell. 

"  Wait  till  he  comes  in,"  answered  Cricket, 
instantly.  Having  made  her  plans,  she  proposed 
to  fight  it  out  on  that  line,  if  it  took  all  summer. 

"  Suppose  he  doesn't  get  home  till  evening  ? 
We  would  be  afraid  to  go  home  alone  then." 

"  He  could  get  a  carriage,  and  send  us  home," 
said  Cricket,  magnificently. 

Eunice  gasped.  The  children  seemed  to  have 
changed  places.  Eunice  was  generally  the  one 
who  had  the  practical  resources. 

The  maid  opened  the  door.  "  Yes,  he  was  in," 
was  the  welcome  answer  to  the  eager  question. 
"  But  it's  afraid  I  am  that  he  can't  see  any  one 
this  afternoon.  He's  particular  engaged." 

Dismay  filled  the  children's  hearts.  So  near 
to  their  goal  and  not  to  be  able  to  reach  it ! 

"  Oh,  please  tell  him  we  must  see  him !  "  cried 
Cricket,  imploringly.  "  It's  dreadfully,  awfully 
important,  and  we've  come  a  long  way  ;  but  we'll 
wait  as  long  as  he  likes,  till  he's  quite  through, 
but  we  can't  go  away  without  seeing  him." 

The  maid  hesitated.  Her  orders  were  strict, 
but  this  was  plainly  something  out  of  the  ordi- 


288  EUNICE    AtfD    CRICKET. 

nary  course.  "  1  don't  know  if  I  can  tell  him," 
she  hesitated. 

"  We  won't  take  but  just  a  few  minutes. 
We'll  be  very  quick,  and  something  must  be 
done,  and  there's  nobody  else  to  do  it.  Please 
ask  him  to  let  us  come  in,  and  we'll  talk  very 
fast,  and  tell  him  all  about  Donald  and  the 
others,  and  —  and  I  can't  go  away  without  seeing 
him ! " 

Cricket's  earnest  voice  grew  almost  to  a  wail 
as  she  ended,  clasping  her  hands  entreatingly. 

A  door  in  the  distance  opened,  and  a  gentle- 
man came  out. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Mary  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  want  to  see  the  President  so  much," 
pleaded  Cricket,  twisting  her  fingers  in  her 
eagerness.  "  I  know  he  must  be  awfully  busy, 
for  I  suppose  presidenting  is  very  hard,  and 
takes  lots  of  time,  but  won't  you  tell  him  we'll 
be  very  quick  ?  And  it's  terribly  important." 

The  gentleman  looked  first  amused,  then  in- 
terested. 

"  Come  in,  my  little  friends.  I  am  the  Presi- 
dent, and  I  will  very  willingly  hear  what  you 
have  to  say,  and  help  you  if  I  can." 

At  this  announcement,  Cricket,  finding  that 


AN    EXPEDITION.  289 

she  was  really  in  the  much  desired  presence, 
drew  a  quick  breath,  feeling,  for  the  first  time, 
the  importance  of  what  she  was  doing.  The  two 
girls,  holding  each  other's  hands  tightly,  followed 
their  kindly  guide  to  the  pleasant  library. 

"  My  legs  wobble  so,  I  can  hardly  walk," 
whispered  Cricket  to  Eunice,  "and  there's  such 
a  hole  in  my  stomach  !  It  feels  all  gone." 

The  gentleman  placed  chairs  for  his  little 
guests,  with  the  utmost  courtesy  of  manner,  and 
then  seated  himself. 

"  Now,  what  can'  I  do  for  you  ? "  he  asked, 
pleasantly. 

Cricket  gripped  her  fast-retreating  courage 
with  both  hands,  drew  a  long  breath  and  plunged 
head  foremost  in  her  subject,  as  one  might  jump 
from  a  burning  steamer  into  the  ice-cold  ocean. 

"  It's  about  Donald,  and  he  can't  tell,  because 
it  wouldn't  be  quite  honourable  to  the  others,  and 
1  found  it  out  accidentally,  and  papa  says  he'll 
stand  by  him,  though  really  Donald  wasn't  in  it 
at  all,  for  he  and  Sidney  Chester  were  calling  on 
Miss  Gwendoline  Vassar,  that  very  night,  —  that 
pretty  Miss  Vassar  that  all  the  boys  are  so  stuck 
on,  you  know,  —  and  they  stopped  and  smoked 
with  another  man  coming  home,  and  then  they 


290  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

met  some  other  men,  who  hadn't  being  doing 
anything  either,  and  then  they  all  got  mixed  up 
with  the  ones  who  did  do  something,  but  I  don't 
know  what,  and  they  were  all  caught  together, 
and  none  of  them  would  say  a  word,  'cause  per- 
haps the  right  ones  would  be  expelled  if  they 
were  known,  and  so  they're  all  going  to  be  rusty- 
coated,  or  suspended,  or  something,  and  that's 
dreadful;  and  poor  Sidney  Chester,  who  didn't 
really  do  a  thing  this  time,  may  have  to  leave 
college  entirely  and  go  into  his  father's  office, 
and  he  hates  it  so,  and  he  really  isn't  bad,  only 
full  of  fun,  and  papa  understands  things  better 
than  old  Mr.  Chester  does,  because  he  was  at 
college  himself,  you  know,  and  he  says  he'll  stand 
by  Don,  for  he  must  be  loyal  to  the  others,  only 
now  perhaps  Don  can't  get  on  the  team,  and  he 
hasn't  done  wonders,  but  he  hasn't  done  so  badly 
in  his  work,  and  he's  such  a  dear  fellow." 

Cricket  drew  a  long  breath  here,  and  dashed 
on. 

"And  you  see  he  didn't  really  do  anything 
himself,  and  nobody  knows  we've  come  to  you, 
and  I  guess  papa  would  take  my  head  off  if 
he  knew  it,  but  I  knew  somebody  ought  to  do 
something,  and  you'd  feel  so  badly  to  punish 


AN    EXPEDITION.  291 

somebody  who  didn't  do  anything,  and  Donald 
didn't  even  mean  to  tell  papa  about  it,  but  papa 
always  understands,  and,  oh,  dear,  if  he's  — 
rusty-coated  —  I  —  can't  —  bear  —  it !  " 

And  here  Cricket,  perfectly  unstrung  by  the 
nervous  tension  and  the  long  strain,  suddenly 
surprised  herself,  and  paralysed  Eunice,  by  burst- 
ing into  convulsive  sobs. 

In  a  moment  she  was  on  the  presidential 
knees,  and  her  head  was  on  the  august  shoulder, 
where  she  wept  a  perfect  flood  of  tears  into  a  big 
collegiate  handkerchief  which  speedily  replaced 
her  small,  drenched  one.  Eunice  was  so  over- 
come by  the  astonishing  spectacle  of  Cricket  in 
tears  that  she  sat  wide-eyed  with  amazement, 
staring  at  her  with  bated  breath. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    RESULT. 

Bur  so  far  as  any  surprise  or  discomfiture 
showed  itself  on  his  face,  the  President  seemed 
to  be  perfectly  accustomed  to  having  strange 
little  girls  invade  his  sanctum,  break  in  on  his 
sacred  quiet,  pour  forth  an  incoherent  tale,  and 
end  up  by  bursting  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and 
submitting  to  be  taken  into  his  arms  to  be 
comforted.  He  mopped  away  Cricket's  tears 
most  scientifically,  and  presently  pulled  still 
another  handkerchief  from  some  other  pocket. 

Soon  the  storm  passed,  and  Cricket,  spent 
with  fatigue,  found  her  curly  head  nestled  as 
confidingly  against  the  President's  shoulder  as 
if  it  had  been  her  father's,  with  only  a  long- 
drawn,  sobbing  breath  now  and  then. 

"Now,  my  little  girl,  I  want  to  know  more 
about  all  this,"  said  the  kindly  voice,  when  she 
was  quite  calm  and  quiet  again.  "  You  see,  I 
don't  know  who  my  little  friend  is,  yet,  either," 


THE    RESULT.  293 

he  added,  smiling  down  into  the  gray  eyes,  in 
which  all  the  usual  mischief  and  light  were 
nearly  drowned  out. 

"  Oh,  I  quite  forgot,"  exclaimed  Cricket,  apol- 
ogetically, instantly  sitting  up.  "I  beg  your 
pardon,  if  you  please.  I  meant  to  tell  you  the 
very  first  thing  that  we  are  Doctor  Ward's 
daughters,  and  then  I  went  and  cried,  and  I'm 
so  ashamed,  for,  indeed,  I'm  not  a  cry-baby,  truly 
I'm  not,  and  I  don't  see  what  made  me  cry." 

The  earnest  little  voice  and  wistful  eyes  em- 
phasised the  words. 

The  President  hid  a  smile. 

"  I'm  sure  you're  not,  my  little  friend.  So 
you  are  Doctor  Ward's  little  daughters."  He 
held  out  his  hand  to  Eunice,  also,  who  imme- 
diately found  herself  within  the  kind  shelter  of 
his  encircling  arm. 

"  Doctor  Ward  of Street  ?  Then  I  know 

your  father  very  well  indeed,  and  am  very  glad 
to  know  the  children  of  a  friend  I  value  so 
much ;  but  I  wish  it  had  been  in  some  way 
pleasanter  to  them.  But  now  let's  talk  busi- 
ness first,"  with  a  smile.  "  Suppose  I  ask  you 
some  questions  and  you  answer  them.  That 
will  be  best." 


294  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

Every  qualm  gone  now,  and  sure  that  they 
were  in  the  presence  of  a  kindly  judge,  Cricket, 
who  was  still  spokesman,  answered  the  few 
clear,  direct  questions  that  the  President  put. 
He  was  soon  convinced  of  the  fact  that  the 
children's  own  impulse  was  at  the  bottom  of 
the  expedition,  —  that  no  older  person  had 
any  knowledge  of  it,  and  that  the  loving, 
loyal  little  hearts  had  carried  out  their 
undertaking,  instinctively  feeling  that  here 
was  a  case  where  weakness  was  stronger  than 
strength. 

Then  came  a  few  minutes  of  silence,  during 
which  the  President  meditated,  knitting  his 
brow,  and  Eunice  and  Cricket  gazed  breath- 
lessly at  him.  What  would  he  say  ?  Donald's 
fate  seemed  hanging  in  the  balance. 

At  last  the  President  opened  his  lips : 

"  Won't  you  have  a  cup  of  tea  with  me  ?  I 
usually  take  one  about  this  time,  if  I  am  at 
home." 

That  was  all.  The  girls  exchanged  startled 
glances. 

The  President  intercepted  them,  and  smiled 
down  at  the  eager  little  faces  so  tender  and 
reassuring  a  smile  that  they  felt  the  load  roll 


THE    RESULT.  295 

off  their  hearts.  It  was  all  right,  somehow, 
they  instantly  felt. 

Cricket  smiled  back  with  such  glad  confidence 
and  good  comradeship  that  the  President  sud- 
denly stooped  and  kissed  the  sweet,  upturned 
little  face. 

"  Yes,  we'll  make  it  all  right  somehow,"  he 
said,  answering  her  unspoken  thought ;  and  then, 
gently  putting  her  down,  he  went  across  the 
room  and  rang  a  bell.  The  trim  maid  pres- 
ently responded  to  the  order  given,  with  a  tray 
containing  tea  and  fancy  cakes. 

The  President  put  his  little  guests  in  low 
chairs,  and  served  them  himself,  talking  all 
the  time  as  if  he  were  one  of  their  intimate 
friends.  They  soon  chattered  away  fearlessly 
in  response,  telling  him  about  their  school  life 
and  the  theatricals,  and  their  mother  and  brother 
and  sisters,  and  repeating  some  of  the  twin's 
funny  sayings  and  doings,  as  if  he  had  no  other 
interests  than  theirs. 

"  Zaidie  is  the  funniest  child,"  said  Cricket, 
confidentially.  "  She  has  the  queerest  ideas. 
The  other  day,  'Liza  said  to  her,  *  Don't  wiggle 
so  when  Pm  dressing  you,  because  I  can't  get 
on  your  dress.'  And  Zaidie  said,  'If  you're 


296  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

dressing  me  when  you  put  on  my  dress,  when 
God  puts  skin  on  people,  is  that  called  skinning 
them?'" 

"  She  is  young  to  be  interested  in  etymology," 
said  the  President,  laughing  ;  "  but  that  is  cer- 
tainly logical." 

"And  the  other  day,"  chimed  in  Eunice, 
"  mamma  had  been  reading  the  first  chapter 
of  Genesis  to  the  twins,  and  she  asked  Zaidie 
what  God  made  the  world  out  of,  and  Zaidie 
said,  '  Out  of  words]  and  mamma  asked  her 
what  she  meant,  and  Zaidie  said,  '  He  made  it 
out  of  words ,  because  He  said,  "  Let  there  be 
light  and  there  was  light,"  and  everything  else 
like  that,  so  He  must  have  made  it  out  of  the 
words,  'cause  there  wasn't  anything  else  to  make 
it  out  of.' " 

"  I  want  to  make  Zaidie's  acquaintance,"  said 
the  President  "  She  should  have  a  chair  in  a 
theological  seminary  one  of  these  days.  Now, 
my  little  friends,  it's  nearly  five  o'clock,  entirely 
too  late  for  you  to  go  home  alone.  I'll  send 
somebody  with  you  —  or  stay  —  I'll  go  myself. 
Could  I  see  your  father  a  few  minutes,  do  you 
think?" 

"  Couldn't  you  come  home  to  dinner  ?  "  said 


THE    RESULT.  297 

Cricket,  eagerly.  "  You  could  see  papa,  any- 
way, for  he's  always  home  at  half-past  five. 
He  doesn't  see  any  office  people  then,  either." 

"  Some  other  day  I  shall  hope  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  dining  with  you,  and  making  ac- 
quaintance with  those  interesting  brothers  and 
sisters  of  yours,"  said  the  President,  smiling  his 
delightful  smile,  as  he  rose.  "To-night,  how- 
ever, I'll  just  see  your  father  for  five  minutes, 
as  I  have  an  engagement,  later." 

So,  escorted  by  the  President  of  the  great 
university,  homeward  went  two  ecstatic  little 
maids,  in  a  perfect  tumult  of  triumph  and  hap- 
piness. Cricket  could  hardly  keep  her  elastic 
feet  on  the  pavement. 

"The  hole  in  my  stomach  is  all  gone,"  she 
confided  to  Eunice's  ear,  "  and  I'm  so  happy 
that  I  could  walk  straight  up  the  side  of  that 
house." 

Mrs.  Ward,  who  was  watching  from  the  par- 
lour window  for  their  arrival, —  not  anxiously, 
however,  as  she  supposed  they  were  safe  with 
Emily  Dray  ton, — was  filled  with  amazement 
at  the  sight  of  their  escort. 

"  Your  little  daughters  have  given  me  the 
great  pleasure  of  a  call,"  he  said,  courteously. 


298  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  They  will  perhaps  explain  better  than  I  can, 
but  I  cordially  hope  it  was  a  pleasure  that  may 
be  soon  repeated.  And  now,  may  I  see  your 
husband  for  five  minutes  or  so  ?  " 

And  then,  when  the  President  was  safely  in 
papa's  study,  the  eager  children  poured  out  the 
story  of  the  afternoon  to  mamma's  astonished 
ears. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

OLD    MR.    CHESTER. 

WITH  the  clue  that  the  children  had  given 
the  President,  the  affair  was  more  closely  in- 
vestigated. Donald  was  furiously  angry  at  the 
children's  exploit  at  first,  as  it  certainly  com- 
promised him,  but,  with  a  little  management, 
the  source  of  information  was  kept  entirely  a 
private  matter  between  the  President,  one  or 
two  of  the  Faculty,  Doctor  Ward,  Donald,  and 
Sidney  Chester.  Donald  and  some  of  the  others 
whom  Cricket  had  named  were  called  up  at  a 
special  meeting  of  the  Faculty,  but  they  still 
steadily  refused  to  say  a  word  at  the  expense  of 
their  classmates.  At  last,  by  much  quiet  man- 
agement, the  whole  sentence  was  conditionally 
repealed,  and  private  interviews  were  held  with 
those  now  pretty  well  known  to  be  the  ring- 
leaders. They  knew  that  they  owed  their  es- 
cape to  some  private  influence,  and  were  well 


300  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

warned  that  the  next  offence  would  give  them 
the  weight  of  this  one  also. 

A  few  days  later,  old  Mr.  Chester  came  over 
to  see  Doctor  Ward.  He  was  a  stern  old  man, 
who  had  made  his  own  way  in  the  world,  and 
he  wanted  his  son  to  have  the  education  he  had 
so  sorely  longed  for  and  never  had. 

He  had  been  puzzled  and  distressed  that 
Sidney  did  not  regard  his  college  course  as  a 
sacred  privilege,  and  had  been  cut  to  the  heart 
by  some  of  the  lad's  previous  escapades.  He 
could  not  comprehend  that  the  boy  was  really 
doing  good  work,  and  was  only  working  off  his 
animal  spirits  by  all  sorts  of  what  his  father 
called  "Tom-fool  tricks."  He  scowled  upon 
athletics,  which  to  his  mind  involved  only  an 
infinite  waste  of  time  and  money.  That  class- 
room lore  is  but  half  the  value  of  college  life 
he  could  not  in  the  least  comprehend.  At  the 
last  of  Sidney's  escapades,  Mr.  Chester  had 
raged  furiously,  and  vowed  that  the  next  time 
the  boy  was  caught  in  anything  of  the  sort, 
it  should  end  his  college  career,  and  land  him 
in  the  hated  office. 

When  the  old  gentleman  learned  of  the  little 
girls'  part  in  the  affair,  he  came  to  Doctor 


OLD    MR.    CHESTER.  301 

Ward  to  express  his  gratitude  that  they  had 
saved  his  lad,  as  he  put  it. 

"  The  obstinate  young  donkey  would  tell  me 
nothing  about  the  matter,"  he  growled.  "He 
would  actually  have  let  me  take  him  out  and 
put  him  to  work,  without  saying  a  word." 

But  for  all  his  scolding,  the  old  man  secretly 
felt  a  thrill  of  pride  at  the  loyalty — whether 
mistaken  or  not,  it  is  not  the  place  here  to  dis- 
cuss—  which  made  this  possible. 

"  Now,  as  for  your  little  girls,"  Mr.  Chester 
said  to  Doctor  Ward,  "  1  would  like  to  do  some- 
thing for  them  —  something  they  will  remem- 
ber this  by.  I  thought  this  might  do,  if  you 
have  no  objections." 

u  This "  was  a  small  morocco  case  which  he 
slowly  drew  from  a  side  pocket.  Then  he 
produced  a  similar  one  from  the  other  pocket, 
and  laid  them  both  on  the  desk  in  front  of 
Doctor  Ward.  Then  he  touched  the  springs, 
in  his  deliberate  way,  first  of  one  case  and  then 
of  the  other.  The  covers  flew  back,  and  on  the 
satin  linings  there  lay  two  exquisite  little 
watches.  Two  little  hunting-cases  they  were, 
with  graceful  monograms  on  the  respective 
covers. 


302  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"For  my  little  piccaninnies?"  exclaimed  Doc- 
tor Ward,  in  astonishment.  "Indeed,  Chester, 
that's  too  munificent  altogether.  Why,  I 
haven't  quite  settled  in  my  own  mind  yet 
but  that  *he  little  witches  ought  to  be  sent 
supperless  to  bed  for  such  a  daring  perform- 
ance, without  consulting  anybody.  The  acci- 
dent of  its  having  turned  out  well  does  not 
by  any  means  make  up  for  their  having  taken 
matters  into  their  own  hands.  Under  some 
circumstances,  they  might  have  done  unbounded 
mischief.  It's  too  serious  a  matter  for  such 
small  hands  to  meddle  with  the  affairs  of  state, 
so  to  speak." 

The  doctor  laughed  as  he  spoke,  but  he  had 
been  seriously  in  doubt,  as  he  said,  whether  to 
reprove  or  commend.  He  had  finally  compro- 
mised by  a  long,  serious  talk  with  his  little 
daughters,  and  they  had  promised  that,  after 
this,  they  would  duly  consult  the  powers  that 
be. 

"  All  that  is  your  affair,"  answered  Mr. 
Chester,  grimly  smiling.  "I  can't  undertake 
to  say  what  discipline  other  people's  children 
should  have.  But  on  my  own  account,  and 
because  I  like  pluck  wherever  I  see  it,  I  would 


OLD    MR.    CHESTER.  303 

like  the  children  to  have  these  watches.  It  was 
a  plucky  performance,  doctor,  you  must  admit 
that." 

"  They  certainly  bearded  the  lion  in  his  den," 
answered  Doctor  Ward,  smiling  also.  "  Yes,  I 
think  they  are  plucky  little  women.  But,  my 
dear  Chester,  some  very  much  more  trifling 
things  will  show  your  appreciation  just  as  well, 
and  make  me  more  comfortable." 

"  Tut !  tut !  This  is  all  in  the  trade,  you 
know.  I  know  my  May  was  crazy  for  a  watch 
like  these,  so  I  thought  they  would  suit  your 
girls  also.  And  you  must  remember  that, 
since  I  deal  in  these  things,  they  are  no  more 
to  me  than  a  bottle  of  physic  would  be  to 
you." 

Doctor  Ward  admitted  the  truth  of  this 
argument,  as  Mr.  Chester  was  at  the  head 
of  one  of  the  largest  jeweller's  stores  in  town, 
and  he  finally  agreed  to  accept  the  watches 
for  the  children,  subject  to  his  wife's  ap- 
proval. 

Everything  being  satisfactorily  settled,  and 
Mr.  Chester  utterly  refusing  to  deliver  the 
watches  himself,  the  next  morning,  when  Eu- 
nice and  Cricket  came  down  to  the  breakfast- 


304  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

table,  each  viewed  with  astonishment  the  little 
morocco  case  at  her  plate. 

"  Why,  it  isn't  our  birthdays  or  anything,"  said 
Cricket,  wonderingly.  "  Has  anybody  else  any- 
thing?" 

"  This  is  your  special  celebration,"  said  mam- 
ma, gaily.  "  Open  and  see." 

The  speechless  children  stared  at  what  the 
little  morocco  cases  held. 

"  What — where  —  why  —  "  stammered  Eu- 
nice at  last,  and  their  mother  explained,  while 
the  rest  of  the  family  looked  on  beamingly. 

"  A  momentum  !  "  shrieked  Cricket,  snatching 
up  the  golden,  gleaming  thing  from  its  pink 
satin  pillow,  and  dancing  around  the  room  with 
a  perfect  whoop  of  delight.  "  Mine  ?  ours  ?  that 
dear  old  duck!  Eunice,  let's  go  and  thank 
him  straight  off.  I  want  to  hug  him  and  kiss 
him,  and  I  always  used  to  be  so  scared  of 
him." 

She  was  bolting  for  the  door,  but  her  father 
called  her  back. 

"  He'd  be  '  scared  '  of  you  if  you  did.  Write 
him  a  nice  little  note  after  breakfast.  He  would 
much  prefer  that." 

«  Aren't     they    too    deliciously    sweet    for 


OLD    MR.    CHESTER.  305 

words?"  murmured  Eunice,  hugging  her  trea- 
sure to  her  heart. 

"  See  those  dear  little  curly  letters  on  the 
cover,"  said  Cricket,  rapturously  examining 
them.  «J.  M.  W.,  —  Jean  Maxwell  Ward. 
And  inside,  —  oh,  Eunice !  do  you  see  ?  Here's 
a  date!  It's  the  day  we  went  to  the  Presi- 
dent !  Isn't  this  the  very  loveliest  momentum 
he  could  have  given  us?" 

"  Memento,  dear,"  suggested  mamma. 

«  Yes,  memento.     What  did  I  say  ?  " 

"  And  Donald  wants  to  give  you  the  gold  pins 
to  wear  them  with.  He  is  going  to  take  you 
down-town  to-morrow  afternoon,  —  to  choose 
them  yourselves,  —  if  you  have  no  previous 
engagements."  Doctor  Ward's  eyes  twinkled. 

"  Don't  tease,  papa  !  Isn't  that  lovely  of  Don. 
What  fun  to  choose  our  own  pins,  Eunice  !  And 
I  love  to  go  down -town  with  Don,  anyway. 
He's  such  a  treaty  fellow.  He  always  gives  us 
ice-cream  and  candy." 

The  pins  were  duly  selected,  after  much  com- 
paring, choosing,  and  rejecting.  Donald  quietly 
slipped  a  card  into  Cricket's  case,  and  when  she 
reached  home  and  displayed  their  final  choice, 
she  found  Donald's  inscription  with  it. 


306  EUNICE   AND    CRICKET. 

To 
Lady  Greasewrister 

and 
Madame  Van  Twister 

Her 

Ladyship's  Sister. 
This  little  "  momentum  " 
For  thanks  have  I  sent  'em, 
In  closest  resemblance  to 
Bright  glaring  brass; 
For  Brass  it  was  took  'em 
(Nor  ever  forsook  'em) 
To  give  to  the  President 
their  "  sass." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

BREAKING   UP. 

THE  June  days  had  come  again,  and  the 
children  were  beginning  to  look  forward  to  the 
summer  exodus  to  Kayuna.  Their  school  closed 
the  second  week  in  June,  and  the  flitting  was  to 
take  place  on  the  llth.  Eunice  and  Cricket 
were  to  go  to  Marbury  in  July  for  a  two  weeks' 
visit  to  their  grandmother.  The  Somers  family 
were  to  be  there,  as  usual,  and  Edna  had  writ- 
ten imploring  letters  that  the  girls  might  be 
with  her  there  for  a  little  while.  Then  Edna 
was  to  be  with  thpm  in  Kayuna  the  entire 
month  of  August. 

"  Doesn't  it  seem  six  year5**  since  last  June, 
when  we  were  all  flying  around,  and  mamma 
was  getting  ready  to  go  to  Europe  ? "  said 
Cricket  on  the  last  night  at  the  house  in  town. 
"  Seems  to  me  I  was  such  a  little  girl  then." 

Indeed,  Cricket,  as  well  as  Eunice,  had  grown 
much  older  in  the  last  year,  and  was  more 


308  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

responsible  and  self-reliant  in  every  way.  Both 
girls  had  grown  tall,  Cricket  especially,  for  she 
had  shot  up  within  half  an  inch  of  Eunice  this 
winter. 

Cricket  was  very  proud  of  this,  and  was 
hugely  delighted  when  people  took  her  to  be 
Eunice's  twin,  as  they  quite  often  had  of  late. 
But  her  curly  hair  was  getting  to  be  a  great 
grievance,  as  it  still  tumbled  about  her  shoul- 
ders, and  wouldn't  grow  long. 

"  Do  you  suppose  my  hair  will  always  stay 
short  and  curly?"  she  asked,  anxiously.  She 
was  sitting  perched  on  her  father's  knee.  The 
younger  children  were  in  bed,  and  the  others 
were  all  in  the  back  parlour.  The  furniture 
was  in  its  summer  dress  of  brown  holland,  the 
pictures  had  retired  behind  mosquito  nets,  and 
everything  wore  a  shut-up-for-the-summer  ex- 
pression, except  the  family. 

"  Just  think  how  I'll  look  when  I'm  eighty," 
went  on  Cricket,  in  an  aggrieved  tone,  "  going 
about  with  little  flippy-floppy  curls  all  over  my 
head,  like  old  Mrs.  Crazy-Beecher,  round  on 
Jones  Street.  Don't  you  know  how  her  curls 
always  jiggle  up  and  down,  because  she  nods  all 
the  time  like  a  Chinese  mandolin  ?  " 


BREAKING    UP.  309 

"  Mandarin,  dear.  Yes.  You  might  wear  a 
wig  then,"  suggested  mamma. 

"  Ugh !     I'd  hate  to  wear  store  hair." 

"  Did  you  hear  Kenneth's  latest  ?  He  watched 
Eliza  this  morning  putting  on  that  funny  jute 
braid  she  wears,  and  it  seemed  to  strike  him 
for  the  first  time,  so  he  said,  '  'Liza,  what  makes 
you  wear  cloth  hair  ?  Mamma  doesn't.'  " 

"  I  don't  want  cloth  hair,  either,"  said  Cricket, 
decidedly.  "Papa,  can't  anything  be  done  to 
straighten  my  curls  out?  Couldn't  you  give 
me  some  medicine  for  it?  I'd  like  to  put  it 
up  in  plaster  of  Paris.  Wouldn't  that  do  it  ? 
It  straightened  out  the  little  Smith  boy's  leg." 

"  We  might  put  your  mind  up  in  plaster  of 
Paris,  to  take  some  of  the  kinks  out  of  that" 
observed  Donald. 

"  My  mind's  the  best  I've  got,  and  you'll 
please  be  respectful  to  it,"  said  Cricket,  with 
dignity.  "  You're  a  model  of  sarcasticity,  I 
suppose  you  think.  Anyway,  I  do  wish  I  had 
'  plain  hair,'  as  Zaidie  says.  Eunice  just  gives 
hers  a  good  brushing  in  the  morning,  and  braids 
it  up  all  smooth  and  nice,  and  there  it  stays. 
While  mine ! " —  a  gesture  of  despair  finished  the 
sentence. 


310  EUNICE    AND    CRICKET. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  can  do  for  you,  little 
Gloriana  McQuirk,"  said  her  father,  tumbling  the 
obnoxious  curls  affectionately  over  her  face. 

"  There !  "  exclaimed  Cricket.  "  Nobody  would 
ever  think  of  throwing  Eunice's  braid  over  her 
face,  and  it  wouldn't  disturb  it  a  bit  if  they  did, 
and  nobody  minds  tossing  mine  every  which 
way,  as  if  I  hadn't  a  feeling  to  my  name." 

"  Cricket's  trials  with  her  hair  are  like  Amy 
March's  with  her  nose,"  said  Marjorie. 

"  Good  idea,"  said  Donald.  "  Braid  your  hair 
into  pigtails,  and  put  a  patent  clothes-pin  at  the 
end  of  each  one,  Miss  Scricket,"  and  only  the 
fact  that  none  were  to  be  found  in  the  kitchen 
regions,  whither  Cricket  instantly  repaired,  pre- 
vented the  suggestion  from  being  carried  out. 

"  How  different  things  will  be  when  we  come 
back  next  fall,"  Mrs.  Ward  said,  presently,  when 
Cricket  had  resumed  her  place  on  her  father's 
knee.  "  It  will  seem  strange  to  have  Marjorie 
gone,  and  the  little  ones  in  school." 

For  the  next  year  was  to  see  several  changes. 
For  one  thing,  Marjorie  was  to  go  to  boarding- 
school  for  a  year.  She  would  soon  be  seventeen, 
and  her  father  and  mother  wished  her  to  have 
the  training  in  self-reliance  and  independence 


BREAKING    UP.  311 

that  a  year  away  would  give  her.  Marjorie  did 
not  aspire  to  college  life,  but  was  eager  to  culti- 
vate her  musical  talent  especially.  Later,  she 
was  to  have  a  year  in  Germany  for  that  purpose. 

Eunice  and  Cricket  were  to  be  collegians, 
however,  and  were  already  planning  with  regard 
to  Wellesley  days. 

Next  year,  also,  the  twins  were  to  be  launched 
on  their  school  career.  They  had  never  been 
even  to  a  kindergarten,  for  Helen  had  been  too 
delicate,  and  Mrs.  Ward  did  not  wish  to  sep- 
arate the  children.  Now  Helen  seemed  to  be 
growing  stronger  all  the  time,  and  Doctor  Ward 
thought  that  school  would  be  quite  feasible  the 
next  fall.  Even  Kenneth  was  to  begin  at  the 
kindergarten,  and  it  was  no  wonder  that  Mrs. 
Ward,  as  she  said,  began  to  feel  that  she  really 
had  a  grown-up  family. 

The  girls  would  miss  Marjorie  immensely 
next  year,  but,  by  way  of  compensation,  Eunice 
thought  she  would  enjoy  the  dignity  of  being 
the  eldest  daughter  at  home. 

"  And  I  think  people  really  ought  to  begin  to 
call  me  Miss  Ward,"  she  said,  meditatively. 

THE    END. 


"Queen  Hildegarde"  Series. 

By  Laura  E.  Richards, 


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QUEEN  HILDEGARDE. 

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(292  pp.).  Square  i6mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

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THE  HILDEGARDE  SERIES. 

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LOVE  AND  ROCKS. 

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A  charming  story  of  one  of  the  pleasant  islands  on  the  rugged 
Maine  coast,  told  in  the  author's  most  graceful  manner. 

WHEN  I  WAS  YOUR  AGE. 

Quarto,  cloth,  gilt  top.     Illustrated,  $1.25. 

A  series  of  papers  which  has  already  delighted  the  many 
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the  reader  to  the  charming  home  life  of  Dr.  Howe  and  Mrs. 
Julia  Ward  Howe  during  the  childhood  of  the  author,  and  one 
is  young  again  in  reading  the  delightful  sketches  of  happy  child 
life  in  this  most  interesting  family. 

GLIMPSES  OF  THE  FRENCH  COURT. 

Sketches  from  French  History.  Handsomely  illustrated 
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SAME. 

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The  History  of  France,  during  the  eighteenth  century,  is  a 
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drawn  a  series  of  papers  which  will  appeal  to  all  who  care  for 
the  picturesque  in  history.  With  true  literary  touch,  she  gives 
us  the  story  of  some  of  the  salient  figures  of  this  remarkable 
period. 

Estcs  &  Lauriat,  Publishers,  Boston. 


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